


The City on the River

by OncefortheFun



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-15 10:19:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2225394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OncefortheFun/pseuds/OncefortheFun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Santana is the Princess of a country named Arroyo where Rachel is her personal entertainer, Quinn is a stubborn tribute to the court, and Brittany is a pet Santana rescued from an abusive master. Quinntana, Pezberry, Brittana and any other pairing because Santana's word is law, and no one's allowed to say no.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Songbird

With a suddenness like a slap of water to the face, the curtains were thrown back from the window, letting the early morning sunlight stream into the room of the sleeping princess. As the suns' rays invaded the sanctuary, they landed on her face, turning the world behind her closed lids red. To make it worse, at that exact moment, the voice of her ave canora, her songbird, started to sing very loudly, an exciting morning ballad, making it impossible for the princess to keep her thoughts focused on the dream that was quickly slipping away.

"Princess," the annoying voice of her attendant, Isobel, penetrated her sleep cocoon. "You absolutely must get up on time today. You have an audience with the Queen and King, and you cannot be late for that."

Isobel's words produced an immediate effect on the princess and she sat up because if there was one thing that she couldn't get away with, it was not being in proper attendance in her parent's presence. Well, she could get away with it with her father maybe, but not her mother, the Queen. And being in their presence meant that she couldn't get away with the French braid or simple pin-up bun she wore on most days, but that her hair would have to be down, and curled with the hot stone curlers, and that she would be given an extra-long bath, (though the princess quite enjoyed the fruit juice mixture that she was bathed in for such a purpose) because being in the presence of her parents was an event.

So far in their lives, neither of the two princesses spent too much time around the Queen or King. The princesses, Gabriella, the younger, and Santana, the eldest, stayed mostly in the palace's country home in Vista Terreno, while their parents lived mostly in the capital city, Jardín Floreciente. The girls usually only got trotted out to the city on occasion in order to learn the court and the inner workings of the city. They had otherwise spent the majority of their childhood in Terreno, a much smaller town that Santana loved dearly. She didn't want to leave, but her time at Terreno was quickly drawing to a close.

Next week was the Autumn Festival, and although she spent all of her past festivals in Terreno, the one of her 16th year would be spent in Jardín Floreciente and would be celebrated in her honor. Once the Princess Santana was properly planted, preparations would be made to welcome her as the new Intended Queen (whereas right now she was just one of the princesses). As soon as she was firmly planted for three months, she would begin to be trotted around the country, where it was important for the kingdom to see her as flowering. There would be celebrations hosted in the biggest cities, and large dinners in the smaller ones. When she was done with her tour of the country, she would return to Jardín Floreciente where she would be given an actual apartment inside of the Palace, as opposed to the simple suite that she currently had. She would also begin to participate, and not just attend, court.

Her life was changing, and that very soon, for she was 16 now, and of age to become the crowned princess, the Intended Queen, and with that came responsibilities, as she had grown up her whole life knowing.

"Alright, fine, I'm up!" the princess snapped. One of the servers handed her a cup with a warm liquid in it, and she quickly downed it before she removed herself from the bed, and strode from her bedroom into the wash room. She was stripped of her robe at the door, striding nakedly into the waist deep, perfectly tempered water. Isobel stood by at the door, while the bathers stood at the edges of the water, waiting for the princess to be of need of them.

Although, Santana had had the same bathers for years, she didn't know either of their names, (as far as she knew they didn't have any other than bañista and bañisto), and didn't know much, if anything, about them. They looked alike. They both had straight, about mid-shoulder length dark brown hair, brown eyes, and the exact same skin tone. They both had defined muscles and were unimpressively pretty, each wearing the same blank expressions on their faces.

Santana often liked to look at them while she bathed, that's what they were there for, after all. She liked to look at her bañisto in the way one appraises art. He was certainly strong, and well-muscled, but she felt nothing, other than one might feel when she looked at art, when she looked at him. The same feelings weren't true when she looked at her nearly identical bañista. She liked how the woman's chest curved and grew upwards and became soft where the bañisto's chest remained flat and hard. She liked how her lips looked, and the way she occasionally looked shyly upon the princess when Santana looked her in the eye. Their hands were both gentle when they bathed her, (if they weren't they would be disciplined) but somehow the bañista's hands always seemed softer. And the way her face shone in embarrassment the first time Santana let out a moan when she was being bathed down there, brought a smile to the princess' lips every time she thought about it.

After she had had plenty of time to soak, the canorcita came in and began to sing. When the princess was done with her bath, the cantorcita would be bathed in a smaller tub, and sometimes Santana liked to stay to watch but knew she would not be permitted to do so today. As soon as she was adequately bathed, she was whisked away to the dressing room, in which she was made to wear a more formal gown, and her hair was furiously dried before a towel was wrapped around her neck and the stones came out. Once, a careless hair dresser had let one of the stones burn her, causing the princess to howl and cry for two solid hours. It had only happened once, when the princess was very small, but it had forever left a bad taste in her mouth, and she has since always faced the event with a sense of trepidation. Luckily, although she could only feel the heat from the stones, none of it touched her skin, and after only an hour of sitting, she was freed to go back in her room and wait until she was summoned into the hall.

It always irritated Santana how her parents treated the palace as if it belonged to them, when they spent so little of their time there. She and Gabriella had the run of the whole place (except for the Queen and King's quarters), and they knew the place like the backs of their hands, and yet, whenever her parents returned, the full staff attended to them, and they became the center of attention. Santana always felt intruded upon because what right did they have to be so presumptuous?

She loved her parents, she did, in a sort of obligatory way. She just was never quite sure how to conduct herself around them. She had to give them the deference they deserved as her parents, and also the respect and honor that they received because they were the Queen and King. If that didn't make the relationship awkward enough, she so very rarely saw them that she had never quite learned their personalities. Her father, whom she called papi even though she was 16 now, seemed far more carefree and impish than her mother, (who she referred to as the Queen in her head, and madre when they spoke), and for good reason. Her mother was the actual ruler of the country. Her father was a foreign prince who became King of Arroyo when he married the Princess Maribel, who later became Queen. While he might help to influence some of the Queen's decisions, he would only ever actually rule if Maribel were to die before either Santana or Gabriella became the Intended Princess, and then he would rule with the lay only until the title was bestowed upon one of his daughters.

"Papi!" Santana called eagerly when she saw the man. Gabriella, who was three years her junior, still rushed and jumped into his arms, but Santana, just turned 16 and about to embark on her very first Autumn Harvest, was too old. When she reached him, she smiled fondly at him, and offered a hand to shake before they hugged.

"How are my girls?" he questioned.

Gabriella giggled and Santana smiled. She was about to open her mouth to speak, when she saw her mother. "Princesa," Queen Maribel greeted her eldest daughter, "I have want for your company. Join me for a walk in the gardens?"

It was not a question, nor an invitation, so Santana dutifully followed after her mother. The garden of the Palace of Vista Terreno, while understandingly not as elaborate as the garden at the Palace of Jardín Floreciente, was quite a marvel in and of itself. They moved from the corridor, into the courtyard, and passed underneath an arbor of hanging vines, working their way to the very center of the garden, where there was a bench.

"You have a big day coming up," her mother said as, after her attending placed a cushion down for her, she sat down on the bench. "I am sure that I need not remind you how important Thesmophoria, the Autumn Festival, is to the people of Arroyo."

"No," Santana agreed. She knew.

"And to you as well," the Queen acknowledged. "Other than your wedding ceremony, and the birth of the next heir, this will be the most defining moment of your life."

"Yes," Santana agreed.

"How do you feel?"

Santana wasn't quite sure. While she was anticipatory because she loved to have the attention on her, and this was possibly the most significant moment in a kingdom's existence, she was still a little nervous. About the event, and about admitting that to her mother. "I'm rather excited about it," she answered, "though I have to admit I have some trepidations."

The look that Maribel gave Santana was surprising. She placed a hand on top of her daughter's.

"Care to share them with me, so I may possibly put them to bed?" Maribel was being unusually kind. "Is it your basin?"

"No," Santana quickly dispelled. "He is a fine basin. He listens and does what he's told."

Maribel gave the girl a scrutinizing look. "I trust that he has been behaving himself?"

"He has," she answered with no hesitation. The young barreño, in that respect, was well trained. He followed all of her directions, got erect quickly, and brought her to completion thoroughly. "I have achieved completion with him, and he with me."

"Then what are you nervous about, dear?"

"What if I find myself unable to receive right away? I've already collected some of his seed, and as of yet I am still without a crop."

"That is a common fear," her mother assured her. "It took me two years before I was firmly planted. My father? Six. Is that why you fear the ceremony? Certainly it's not from modesty."

"No, I know the curtains can be drawn, shall I choose them to be. I guess that my anxiety is because I do not feel any sort of pull to the barreño. I know he's good looking and a fine specimen of a man, but there's nothing in particular that excites me about him. The same is true for my bañisto. He looks almost identical to my bañista, and yet I find myself more attracted to her, and I like to see my cantorcita be bathed. Sometimes I imagine her or my bañista when I'm practicing with the barreño."

The Queen gave a polite laugh, a chuckle really. "Oh, that! That is no matter at all. That means that you're most likely more drawn to females than men. That is no matter, in fact, I think it might be better than if your lover was a man."

She was surprised at how quickly something that have given her anxiety was dismissed. "Why is that?"

"Because the royal blood line must be kept clean, which is why you have basins to collect from when you have your first harvest. Once you become the intended and are wed to Prince Matthew of Lagodo, you will not be able to carry on a pure sexual relationship with your lover until you produce two heirs, for fear of mixing seed. However, with a female lover, you won't have that worry at all, and you can bring her into your home for the entire duration of your marriage. A marriage is for court, love is for yourself. Mija, is that the only thing you were worried about?"

It wasn't but as she had expressed her bigger fears she was content. "Yes."

The Queen smiled brightly, as that was something that was easy enough to fix. Santana stood, when Maribel stood, and they continued a circuit around the grounds. "Are you prepared to leave it?" her mother questioned tenderly.

"No," Santana responded. "But I know that it is my duty to be where the people need me," it sounded like a recited speech because it was.

"Have you prepared for what you are taking with you?"

"Just cantorcita and the basin."

"Isobel, too," her mother reminded her. "And your tutor."

Santana huffed. "Do I have to bring  _him_?"

Her mother frowned. "Do you not like him? Is he mean to you?"

Her tutor was one who got to speak freely to the princess, but it wasn't a leisure that was bestowed on him by the princess, but rather his title. Of course a young girl who would rather be running around outside and playing games would be loath to want to sit still and do her lessons. So he was allowed a firm (but not disrespectful) hand with her. "No, he's not mean, I just hoped that I would be done with him once I become the Intended."

Again her mother chuckled. "My dear cielo, unfortunately a princess, and even a Queen, is never done learning. Once you reach your 20th birthday, you can exchange your tutor for an advisor closer to your age, however, you will have an advisory panel to consult as well. Did you not wish to bring your bañisto and bañista with you?"

Santana hadn't thought much of it either way. She had no attachments. "Do you not have bañistas at the palace in the gardening city?"

The Queen gave her a not so secretive smile. "Oh, we do, I just thought that you had formed some sort of attachment to either of them."

She got the Queen's meaning. Now that she was coming into her sexuality, her mother wondered if she had had sex with either of them. As sex with the basin was as pleasurable as she desired, and yet not an experience that she went about with anything other than a sense of duty, she hadn't thought about the act in other regards. For one brief moment she wondered what it would feel like to touch the chest of her bañista, to kiss her lips. She felt an uncomfortable stirring down between her legs at the very thought.

Maybe she would try it with her songbird;  _she_  was lovely. She was shorter than the princess, with dark brown hair, plush lips, ample breasts, and a very nice shape to her body. The only problem with her was her mouth-not her teeth, but the words that came out of it. But then…they needn't necessarily talk much while they touched.

"I have no need of them," Santana said. She thought if there were any other of the servants that she particularly couldn't live without, but she couldn't think of one. She would take her dresser, too, just because.

"Then I will find you two of the loveliest bañistas for you once we return to the city," the Queen promised.

Once she was freed from her mother's presence, Santana went back to her own rooms, where she was most comfortable. She sent for the ave canora nearly immediately. Santana was a bit surprised by her attire. Although Santana did not bring the girl around her mother, the girl was still made to look extra special today, on the off chance that she came across the queen in the hallway, or the courtyard. Santana was appreciative of the extra attention her songbird had gotten. The dress that the ave canora had been dressed in today was one of the best she had seen her in. It was light blue and white, and anything but modest. The slit in the dress stopped just short of mid-calf, it was backless, and on the sides it had two windows that showed off her sides and part of her stomach. The deep V-neck in the front showed nothing, but left plenty to the imagination (and since Santana had seen her naked on numerous occasions, there was little there to imagine).

"What song do you wish to hear, princess?" the girl questioned as soon as she entered the room.

Santana shook herself from her thoughts. "No song for now," the princess said. "You may sit. I merely wish for your company." Santana inwardly rolled her eyes at the happy expression that fell on the girl's face. The princess never really understood it, but the girl seemed to have no other desire than to be friends with her although Santana wasn't exactly kind to her. On mornings when she didn't feel like getting up, she was known to throw pillows, among other things, she often barked at the girl, talked badly about the girl when she was in her presence, and when the girl fell into her ramblings, she sometimes threw water in her face, actually taking delight, sometimes, at seeing how the girl's eyes rolled back into her head from the shock of it.

Santana studied her cantorcita. "What do you do when you're away from me?" she questioned, curiously. Briefly she wondered why she never thought to ask about it before, because they weren't always together. She was always available when she had need of her, but there were times when Santana dismissed her, and she had to go  _somewhere_. Santana had just kind of assumed that the ave canora just ceased to exist when she wasn't in sight.

"Well, Santana, it is not easy to be able to answer every beck and call for a performance so when I am not with you I go through vigorous vocal and throat training and exercises to assure that my voice is always in peak condition, and I practice new pieces and study new plays so that when I am asked-,"

And that simply the smaller girl seamlessly reminded her why she preferred her silence.

"Berry, please! When will you learn the definition of the word 'brevity'?"

"Using concise and exacting words in speech," she responded cheekily. "However, I have found that misunderstandings often,"

The Princess inwardly rolled her eyes and merely gritted her teeth as Rachel rambled on. Santana's relationship with her songbird was a tenuous one. It was a coin toss as to how she would feel about her cantorcita in any given moment. Rachel was one of the few in the princess' world who was allowed to act almost without impunity. This wasn't an honor bestowed upon her by the house, or to other songbirds, but given solely by the princess because although she had never before met anyone who was more annoying, she at times liked, and actually coveted, her audience.

Rachel's impunity came solely from the princess' desire to protect her. If others knew how free the girl's tongue was around the princess, she would surely be brought in to be retrained, and indeed Santana had sent her off for that once, when she was younger, because Rachel seemed to forget herself all the time, and the incessant talking had angered the princess to the point past annoyance. But then she found out what happened when a servant was retrained, and she immediately felt guilty. Rachel didn't go into specifics about what happened, actually Rachel hadn't told her anything at all, Santana had merely seen the stripes on her back for herself, and while the princess didn't typically concern herself with the well-being of the servants, Rachel was  _hers_  and no one else's. And while her songbird had kept singing after that, there was this small space of time where her songs didn't sound as sweet.

So she sheltered the girl, and Rachel, and her basin, were two of the few people in her life that she would actually think of fondly as one might, in another world, think of a friend. And although she didn't like her half the time, she didn't want anything to stop her from singing.

"Princess did you hear me?" Rachel was saying.

Santana sighed. "Actually, no, Berry, I tuned out because I swear that's the only way to deal with you sometimes. Did you ask me something important?"

For a moment, the girl hung her head. "No," she mumbled.

"Do not speak underneath your breath in my presence," Santana commanded. Her voice softened, minutely. "What was it?"

"I asked if there was something in particular that was troubling you at the moment. Perhaps the upcoming festival?"

The princess threw her head back. "Why would I be bothered by that?" she said with new found bravado.

Her songbird shrugged. "Being in front of all of those people? While sometimes I imagine what it would be like to be standing in front of a crowd of people, all with their eyes on me, the first time it happened I would probably be quite flustered, so I worried if maybe you,"

Before Santana could get into a discussion about how she was not as common as her songbird and thus would not share such a base emotion, she was beat to the punch.

"The princess, nah, she craves an audience," a male voice said. Santana whipped her head around in surprise to see that her basin had joined her. The basin, Noah el barreño de los campos de Lopez, or most commonly Puck because of his resemblance to the Greek jokester, was the other person of her life that often gave her headaches, but whose company she nonetheless enjoyed. Unlike her ave canora, Puck was one of her subjects, but not a servant. They had grown up together as playmates, and may as well have been brother and sister. They were in actuality distant cousins, but they occupied two different realities.

Puck was what was referred to as a Cuenca, one of the barreño or basins. His class were all of noble blood but legal bastards despite both of their parents being known. The Lopez family had been the rulers of Arroyo for 200 years, and in order to assure the preservation of the line, before a prince or princess could ascend the throne they had to show that they were viable to produce the next heir. Because it would be shameful for a prince or princess to give birth to anything else that wasn't of noble blood, they were paired with a basin, one who was of the bloodline, just not nobility. To achieve this end, the basins' one and only meaningful purpose in life was to be the sexual companion to the princess or prince, until said princess or prince produced a child.

They were considered bastards because only a legal child could be a prince or princess, and the marriage of a prince or princess doesn't occur until after the 'crop' has been 'harvested', so the first child of the prince or princess is not recognized as being the child of said prince or princess. To make it far simpler: Puck was in Santana's life for her to use for sexual purposes to prove that she could, in fact, have a child. Once that child was born, in the eyes of the law, the child that Puck and Santana had together would not be considered a child of Santana's, but rather the child of Puck's, with no legal mother. (A mother abandoning a child after it was born became one of the very few instances where the child was considered the property of the male). Once the child was born, she would then become the crowned princess, the Intended, and once her mother passed away she would become Queen.

That was half the purpose of the upcoming festival that would take place at the end of the week, the reason why it was so important. The Thesmophoria occurred every year at the end of the summer harvest, but during the year that the oldest prince or princess turned of age, a ceremony called the 'Planting of the First Crop' takes place in which the princess (or prince) has sex for the 'first time' to see if they will be the intended. Since it was a show, (and because they were teenagers), of course the two of them had been practicing for said event, as was essentially custom, so though it was called the  _first crop_  the reality was that it was anything but.

"Like you don't, Puck," Santana shot back in response to his statement.

Noah plopped down on her bed and gave a casual shrug of his head. He was allowed to shrug; he wasn't royal. Matter of fact, Puck was allowed to do a lot of things that Santana couldn't, a fact that made the princess mad.

"How'd you even get in here?"

"I can get in just about anywhere I want," Puck said, and he made a ridiculous hand gesture.

"That is quite rude, Noah," Rachel said. It was just another show of how she did what she wanted. No one but her, called Puck, Noah, and she wasn't supposed to address Puck so formally as Puck was her superior, even if he was a bastard.

Noah gave an open mouthed laugh. "It's true. Once the princess is with child, and she has released me from my service to her, I'll have my pick of any and all the girls I want if she is so gracious as to allow me that." He fluttered his eyes at Rach. "How about you, Rach? Will you be pulling anyone special onto the couch? Any lady you'll be sneaking off into the bushes with?"

Heat rose to the girls face, and the princess looked at Rachel with interest. The thought had never occurred to her that there might be someone her song bird would choose to mate with this festival. "Is there?" she found herself asking.

Rachel looked at the princess, and a smile appeared on her face. "Am I to understand that I have your majesty's permission to partake in the festival this year?"

Santana looked upon Rachel curiously. "What do you mean? You became of age 2 years ago; have you not been sired yet?"

For some reason Rachel winced and Puck looked at Santana as if she were clueless. "No, princess."

"Why not?"

Puck groaned, but Rachel answered, "We've never before gone to a festival," she emphasized the 'we've', "as you were not yet of age."

She realized what she was saying in the words she didn't say. "Oh," Santana replied.

"I am not allowed to go without your majesty's permission." It was a gentle remainder, one that Santana often forgot: Rachel was not allowed to ask permission so Santana was expected to remember to grant her leave at times. "Well, then, yes, if there is any body, any one at all that you have taken a fancy, to-,"

At this her little songbirds' cheeks darkened. "I've never, that is to say, I don't much have experience with, I've never done, or would-,"

For once Rachel was silent. The princess slowly understood. "Oh, that should be no matter! It's not much to it, once you get started. I didn't much like it the first few times I mounted Puck." Puck looked intensely embarrassed at how casually she spoke. The princess didn't notice, and just continued. "It didn't really hurt as much as it felt really uncomfortable, but I was warned about that. Women have this membrane inside of them, and usually it's opened when they first have sex, though it can sometimes happen for other reasons." Santana continued on because she had learned her lessons dutifully. After all, part of being the princess was showing that she could produce an heir, and as such, sex was an important part of her upbringing and so she was well informed.

The princess completely missed how embarrassed both of them were now looking. "You just have to get through the first bit, and then it gets easier."

She thought about the talk that her mother had given her. She imagined the scenario, not reversed, but changed. Instead of her mounting Puck, she imagined her songbird beneath her. Since there would be no plow in the way, she could get far closer to the girl than she ever gotten to Puck. She could lay down almost flat against the other girl, connecting at all points that were familiar. She was suddenly feeling uneasy about the words that she had given away freely. She decided that she didn't want her songbird being betrothed to any common member of her class; she didn't want dirty, inexperienced hands touching her, though she herself could not say that she was experienced in being with another female.

"I was a bit hasty with my words, Berry," the princess said. "As I'm sure I didn't make them quite clear. I wish you to be at the festival with me, but I'm afraid you will be too busy singing in order for me to find someone for you to mate."

Santana nodded to herself, a plan forming in her mind. Her next bathing session, she would simply order the servants out of the room, and experiment on her bañista. They weren't just for looking at, after all, and then, once she felt that she had enough experience, she would pull Berry aside, and teach her songbird how to really sing.


	2. The Pet

                Isobel stood in front of Santana with a carefully blank expression on her face, curious to find out the reason for her summons; usually it was she who had to seek Santana out. Isobel had been in the palace employ her whole life. Once a companion to the Queen, she was now entrusted with the care of the princesses. When Santana was younger this meant that she had a modicum of control, but now that she was older, inching toward adulthood and the crown, she was no longer looked up to by the princess the way that a child would a parent, but rather the way one regards a teacher they’re not particularly fond of. “You called for me, princess?” she questioned, politely.

                “Yes,” Santana said. “Tomorrow, I wish to be awoken an hour earlier than usual.” Isobel’s face was a perfect blank, and therefore didn’t show how she met the news that she would have to wake the entire staff an hour earlier, which would be fun for none involved. She was trying so hard not to let the scowl form on her face that she almost missed the words that came next: “The rest of the staff may sleep in longer, if they like, and you too, if you wish.”

                “Shall I send in an assistant to wake you, then, Princess?”

                “No, the bañista can do it. I have been aching and I wish to soak for an extra-long time tomorrow. I imagine she knows how to draw a proper bath?”

                “Yes, princess.”

                “Good.”

                “And shall I have her wake your little bird as well?”

                Santana had almost forgotten about Rachel, as odd as that sounded. As a comfort she almost wanted Rachel’s voice there to be singing in the background, but what would she think about her if she was there when she deflowered the chamber maid? It wasn’t like she didn’t know Santana had sex; Rachel had been in attendance on countless occasions when Santana had coupled with Puck. Whenever Santana didn’t want just music playing, but singing as well, she called the girl in. As she stood there, wondering about what her song bird would think, she wondered why she was even wondering at all. Rachel had no will above her own; why should Santana even be bothered with what she would think?

                “No. She’ll already be up any way, and she could use the extra time to practice. She’ll probably like that. I’ll take my breakfast out in the courtyard, half an hour later, as well.” She figured that would give her enough time to do what she had planned. “That way, my early awakening will not be an undue burden on any more of the servants.”

                 “And the bañisto, princess?”Isobel only asked that last question out of morbid curiosity. She kind of had an idea what the princess was up to, but she wanted some confirmation. Isobel had never known the princess to be magnanimous so if she was being generous, there was a reason for it, but it was none of her business what that reason was. Isobel’s duty was to make sure that the princess stayed on schedule, and stayed out of trouble. The latter might not have been possible, but she could certainly do her best to make sure that the princess was at least on time.

                “He may stay asleep as well. The fewer disturbed, the better.”

                 “Is there anything else I can do for you, your highness?”

                “No, I shall call if I need anything else.”

                “As you wish,” Isobel said, with a quick bow at the waist before she was out of the room.

* 

                That night Santana lay in her bed, listening to the stillness of the palace. She knew that there were sentries posted somewhere outside her door, and that there were servants within call if she needed them, but their sounds did nothing to interfere with the quiet of the night. Although she knew she was thoroughly alone, she still gave a look about the room just to make sure that she was utterly alone, before she disrobed and climbed onto her bed. She lay on her back, and gently spread her legs.

                It wasn’t often that the princess self-satisfied. There was absolutely no need for it. If she had a sexual itch, it was Puck’s job to fulfill it, any way that she desired, any time that she desired. If she wanted to, she could have one of the sentries bring Puck to her bedroom, and he would have to do whatever she told him. Puck wasn’t the only person that she had for that, either, (just the most trained). If this was just about achieving an orgasm, she would have sent for him, but this was about education. Santana was exploring today.

                Although she would be using the bañista for practice for Rachel, it was important to her that she didn’t appear to be some bumbling buffoon before the girl either. As princess and possible future ruler of Arroyo, it was Santana’s job to reassure her subjects that she would make a competent and fruitful ruler. She had two responsibilities to her people: to strengthen, protect, and make profitable Arroyo as a whole, and to produce an heir to the throne. She was expected to not only be competent when it came to politics, but in bed as well. An active libido meant that she had a healthy sex drive, and a healthy sex drive meant that she would produce an heir and preserve the royal bloodline that had successfully made Arroyo a dominant power for more than two centuries. Even if the bañista was forbidden from speaking ill of the princess, Santana didn’t want to appear as if she didn’t know what she was doing, even if it was just practice.

                So she fooled around, listening as her body told her what it liked, what it didn’t, what felt good, what really felt good and what made her drool. After she had reached a climax for the third time, she wrapped herself back in her robe before she crawled beneath the covers. Satisfied with herself, she allowed herself to fall asleep.

 *

                Santana blinked at the alien sight of her bañista leaning over her. “Princess,” she whispered, clearly not wanting to disturb her even though she had been charged with waking her up. Santana yawned, stretching. “Good morning,” she said, cordially. It was evident that the girl didn’t know what to do with the greeting, so she merely nodded, and stepped back, as if to give the princess room to exit her bed.

                Santana received a small surprise when she took in the bañista’s appearance and saw that she was clothed in a simple blue shift dress. Santana had never seen her bathers outside of the bath, and had never once given much thought to what they wore outside of her presence imagining that they were always attired in the bather’s costume, which consisted of nothing above the waist except for two gold bands that snaked around their forearms, and a wide band necklace that came down to a little past the hollow of their necks. Below their waist, she’d never seen it, but she knew from the countless times of accidentally brushing against them, that they both wore a shendyt, athin skirt-like covering. At the very least, she expected to see the girl in that, and almost demanded that the bañista strip right then so that she was in familiar territory, but she kept her tongue.

                After a moment of awkward silence, the bañista realized that Santana was waiting for her slippers, and she carefully placed them in front of the princess. Santana slipped her feet into them, and stood up, allowing the girl to lead the way into the bath. Although a cheery fire burned in the hearth, and the water lapped softly against the sides of the tub the way it usually did, it felt strange being in this room without her usual convoy. With just her and the bañista present the room felt…she ran through her mind to find the word she was looking for: intimate.

                The bañista started to step behind a screen that the princess had never noticed off to the side, but Santana stopped her. “What are you doing?” she questioned curiously.

                The bañista struggled not to use any common gestures though she couldn’t help the glow that infused her cheeks at the princess’s question. “I was moving to undress, princess.” Santana startled at the words for this was the first time she had heard the girl speak above a coaxing whisper. In the emptiness of the room, her voice seemed to echo.

                “Oh,” Santana responded. She smiled at the touch of modesty, thinking it was endearing that the girl felt the need to undress behind a screen when Santana had ever only seen her practically naked. “There’s no need, ba…err…do you have a name?”

                “Maya,” the bañista whispered.

                Santana tried it out. Maya. “There’s no need for you to go behind the screen, Maya, it’s just us. Undress out here. I want to watch.”

                To her credit, if the princess’s request made the bañ… _Maya_ uncomfortable, she didn’t show it. Maya faced the princess, dropping her eyes merely out of respect. Santana quickly corrected her. “No, look at me,” she commanded, and the eyes shot back up in obedience. Santana stared back at her intensely. “Undress.”

                With her eyes never leaving the princess, Maya pulled the dress over her head, revealing a camisole beneath. She slipped that off, letting both items fall gracefully to the floor in front of her. Santana let out a breath once the girl was topless taking the opportunity to study Maya’s breasts. They were slightly larger than her own, but with a different shape to them. Her areolas were wider than the princesses, but lighter in color, and her nipples were two small points, a bead as opposed to Santana’s pebbles. Santana thought they were lovely.

                “And the bottom, too,” she spoke once she’d had her fill of looking.

                Maya was beginning to get a sense that this was not a normal bathing. She had kind of gotten that feeling yesterday when Isobel had informed her that she would be waking the princess up, and then today when she came in to find that Ernesto was not here as well, the feeling was only strengthened. She was not unwise to the position that she was in. Just like Puck knew that he was there to impregnate the princess, the bañistas knew that they were the most likely to be taken to bed by the family. She had been warned from a young age of this, and she knew better than to show hesitance or fear, still…her heart raced in her chest. Even if the princess was one of the most beautiful people she’d ever seen.

                Without conveying her nerves, Maya undid the complicated tying of the garment, slowly unwrapping her covering and letting it fall to the floor to pool around her feet.

                Santana was herself nervous, so she hesitated on looking at the part of the bañista that had just been revealed. Instead, she was slow with her gaze, letting her eyes slowly take in all of the girl who was naked before her. She started at the girl’s hair, which was dark and curly like her own. It fell around her head with a decided softness that was a nice contrast to the unapologetic stiffness to the girl’s back. Her breasts rested above a flat stomach that was carved yet somehow still soft. Her back side was pleasantly plump, her hips wide and angular. A mess of dark, thick, hair covered the triangular shape of her inner core, and here it was that Santana’s eyes lingered. Puck’s bottom half was completely unappealing to her, but this, this was beautiful. She didn’t even realize that she had licked her lips. 

                “Come here,” Santana commanded, awe in her tone. Their eyes didn’t leave each other as Maya made her way across the room. Maya felt bold in her walk, bolder than she’d ever felt before, because she was allowed to fully stare and take in the princess, and knew that she was staring and taking her in, too. She didn’t realize before that the princess’ eyes were so beautiful. Captivating. They stared at her with a ferocity that made her want to blush. The intensity of her gaze made it nearly impossible to look away.

                When Maya was no more than a foot away from the princess she stopped. “Undress me.” Maya moved to undress the princess the same way her dressers did: from the back. Santana stopped her. She wanted to see Maya’s eyes as she was disrobed. “No, from the front. I want to watch you undress me.”

                The bañista faltered for the first time in the shake of her hands as she removed Santana’s robe from around her. She tried her hardest not to let any of her skin touch the princess, but despite her efforts, her fingers still lightly grazed her shoulder blades. “Oh,” Santana released, surprising both of them with how throaty the sound was. Maya froze, unsure if she was supposed to continue. Santana froze momentarily, too, surprised by the thrill of pleasure such a simple touch had given her. She realized that Maya was waiting, and so she nodded for her to continue. “It’s okay to touch me,” she assured.

                When Santana was naked, she reached for Maya’s hand, and led her into the perfectly heated water. Maya got the bathing cloth and soap, and bathed the princess the way she did on any other day, but unlike any other day, when she was finished, Santana took the items from her hands, lathered the cloth and preceded to bathe the startled bañista. It was a new experience for both of them. Maya had never been bathed by someone else, before, nor touched with something so fine. The princess had never before bathed anyone, including herself, and she felt somewhat foolish, but continued on in a determined manner. She covered every surface of the girl, mimicking the way she and the bañisto administered to her every day.

                As she moved across the girl’s body, she paid attention to what actions made Maya’s breath hitch, what made it race. It seemed that the breasts were one of those areas, the nipples especially so. When Santana dragged the cloth in between the girl’s legs, she was delighted to see that Maya reacted the same way that she did.

                Once the girl was clean, Santana hesitated for only a second as she tried to determine how she wanted to proceed. Santana noticed that some soap had gotten into Maya’s hair so she gathered some water in the cup of her hands, and gently let it cascade down onto the neglected spot. For some reason this made Maya’s breath hitch, and Santana watched her, curiously. Santana touched that same spot with her bare hand, and got a shock. She was so soft. Puck wasn’t this soft. Puck never smelt this good, either. Even after he was freshly bathed.

                Santana kissed her gently on her forehead, the way her father used to do when she was a little girl, and she delighted at the feel of her skin beneath her lips. Santana wondered if the rest of her felt this soft, and she decided to experiment, peppering feather light kisses on the top of her eyelids, her nose, her cheeks; the side of her face. When her lips made it down to Maya’s lips, Santana felt as if she had suddenly discovered the key to the universe. Somehow that pillow like extension of her body was the softest part of her.

                 Maya let out a half whimper, cutting herself off when she realized what she had done. Santana paused. “It’s okay,” she assured the girl. “I want to hear you.”

                She brought her lips back down against hers, kissing her a little more forcibly. She brought her tongue out to gently lick along the lines of the girls’ lips, and was surprised when the mouth opened a hair’s width, exhaling a soft breath. Santana wondered if inside tasted as delicious as the outside, so she stuck her tongue in the small gap, anxious to find out. Maya’s breathing increased as Santana further delved into her mouth, running her tongue along the inner lip, and her teeth, before she discovered the tongue. Santana wasn’t sure if it was her tongue meeting Maya’s, or the hand that she brought up to hold the girl by the back of her neck, that caused the girl to moan in her mouth, nor did she care as long as she kept doing it.

                Santana kissed her until she had to pull away to regain her breath. She reached for Maya’s hands, positioning them on herself, letting the girl know it was alright if she touched her. When Santana felt like her head was no longer spinning, she went back to her exploration, but didn’t bring her mouth back to Maya’s. Instead, she kissed the chin, and jaw, and found that when she kissed and licked a certain spot beneath her ear, it caused Maya to pant. Maya, who had merely been resting her hands on the princess’s hip, actually squeezed her, causing Santana to release her own moan. At the sound Maya pulled back as if she had done something wrong. Santana pulled her back to her. “I _want_ you to touch me.”

                Santana cupped some more water into her hands, dripping it down Maya’s front. When the water droplets fell down Maya’s breasts, goose pimples appeared. Santana brushed her pinky over the surface, which won her a sharp intake of breath. Santana’s mouth fell down on top of her nipple, her other hand going to caress the other one, lest it fell lonely. With her hand she imitated the movements of her mouth, pinching the nipple when she enclosed the little bead with her lips, scratching it when she let her teeth graze against it, running a wet finger along it when she licked the other one with her tongue.

                “Do you like that?” Santana questioned as she worked. She wasn’t saying this to inflate her ego, but to improve upon herself. She’d never done this before. She didn’t know what felt good, what didn’t, what she should do, what she shouldn’t. So far, for her, this experience was already ten times better than what she had experienced with Puck, and she had barely been touched. She hoped that Maya found the experience equally pleasant.

                Maya didn’t look at her, but she nodded. “I want to know what feels good to you, so if I do something you like, please tell me so I know what makes you feel good.”

                 Santana gently sucked on the nipple. This time Maya let out a more audible grunt, as if Santana’s direction was all the encouragement she needed. Santana moved to the other side, and attacked it with a force in direct correlation with the sounds that Maya released. After she had spent maybe five minutes on her breast, she drew her hand along Maya’s stomach, pausing when she felt the girl trembling.

                “What are you feeling right now?” Santana asked softly.

                 Maya tried to duck her eyes, but Santana wouldn’t let her. She held her hand underneath the girl’s chin, making her keep eye contact.

                “Scared,” Maya said honestly.

                Santana returned a kind look. “Why are you scared?”

                “I do not wish to do anything to anger you, and I have never been touched in this way before. I am worried that it might hurt.”

                “I will do everything in my power not to hurt you. I am doing this to learn, so I want to do only the things that make you feel good. You will not anger me. What else are you feeling?”

                “Anxious. I like you touching and playing with my breasts,” Maya said, whisper soft, “but it’s caused an uncomfortable pressure between my legs.”

                Santana almost laughed, almost, at what Maya was trying to convey to her. Oh. At that, Santana pulled the girl over to the edge of the tub, and gently laid her on her back, so that she could lay on top of the girl. It was different than the position she adopted with Puck. Just being pressed into Maya sent tantalizing shocks to her core, which she could feel lightly pressing against Maya’s. She discovered through accident that when her knee lightly came into contact with Maya’s center that it brought out probably the biggest moan yet. “Princess,” Maya gasped when Santana repeated the contact. 

                She continued to work her knee through the girl’s wetness. Was this normal, or was this because of her? She didn’t get this wet for Puck. Santana withdrew to Maya’s protest, so that she could look more closely at the girl’s sex. She was surprised to find that her knee was covered in a wet, sticky substance, and she lowered her finger to collect some. She brought her finger up to her nose and smelled lightly. It was a cloying smell, heavy, but not unpleasant.

                Maya’s core was covered in this hot stickiness. She spread the girl’s legs wider, and sat back so that she could look better. It was like a blossoming flower. It was so beautiful. The princess surprised both of them when she placed a kiss on the bead in between her legs, and they both moaned. Maya from the contact, Santana from the taste.

                Santana had the sudden desire to hear her name moaned by this girl. “My name, say my name,” she coaxed.

                “Santana. _Please_ …more.”

                Santana wanted to do some more exploring of the girl’s body, but she could feel the need in her voice too. Santana flickered her finger over the bead, watching the little bud stiffen and arch towards her, as if it wanted to play. Santana continued to run a finger over it, noticing that Maya would grunt whenever she lifted her finger off of the knob.

                Her fingers traveled further down her folds, finding Maya’s hole. When Santana’s fingers entered her, the noise she let out was more guttural than she had released previously. It was a moan, but it sounded like it was mixed with pain. “Does this hurt?” Santana questioned anxiously. Maya’s eyes tightened as she panted out, but she didn’t answer. Santana remembered her first time with Puck, and how after he entered her, the tutor had commanded that Puck not move an inch until Santana had gotten used to the penetration. She could feel the girl adjusting to her, so she began to move very slowly, remembering to keep contact with the little bundle of nerves to help with the pain.

                Santana added another finger, which caused a moan and a whimper. “Do you want me to stop?”

                “No, god, please don’t.”

                “Do you like that?” Santana paused to ask.

                “Yes!”

                Santana continued to pump into her, increasing the intensity a little. Maya’s hips bucked up, connecting with the force of her thrusts. Her movements grew more frantic until Santana watched a shiver take over her body, and with a hard shutter, her hips fell back against the stone. Santana knew that the girl would be sensitive, but she also remembered how easy it was to fall into another orgasm, so she continued to pump into her, using her free hand to grab a handful of her breast. She leaned down and planted kisses on the girl’s mouth, panting along with her, and every now and then getting a jolt to her own center. She could feel the girl’s inner walls clamping down on her fingers, feel the heat that they gave off. She didn’t know what the change was, until she felt that growingly familiar tell, which meant that the girl was falling into another orgasm.

                “Princess, please,” the girl sobbed when Santana’s finger flicked over her sensitive clit. Santana got the message, and pulled her fingers from out of the girl’s core. Maya lay against the cold stone floor, panting softly, trying to regain her breath. Maya briefly met the princess’ gaze, before she dropped her own eyes in embarrassment.

                Even though the words weren’t necessary, Santana said “Thank you,” before she found her feet. She walked back into the bath water to rinse off, before she went back to where she left Maya and helped her to her feet. “I’ll wait for you in the dressing room,” she said, and the change was back in her voice. She was Princess Santana again. “You’ll have to dress me as I’ve allowed them to sleep in this morning. Isobel already set out what I’m to wear for the day.”

                And with that she strode from the room.

*

                When breakfast was brought to her in the courtyard and sat on the table in front of her, it came with an annoyed little song bird, as if it were a prize with the meal. Although Rachel was her avecanora, at times Santana thought her nickname should be squirrel rather than song bird because she always seemed to be teeming with coiled energy, flitting from place to place, and generally being annoying. She was usually least palatable in the early mornings and today was no exception.

                “Santana,” she hissed when it was just the two of them. “You have completely thrown my equilibrium off by not calling me in to you this morning!”

                “Rachel, do you forget that you belong to me, and not the other way around?”

                Rachel considered her words, recognized that they lacked any bite, and so waved them away. “That’s no never mind, it’s called consideration, Santana. I have been working on a song that I am sure you would thoroughly enjoy, and I had been practicing it vigorously, and my whole schedule was thrown off! Do you know what happens to an instrument if you never play it?”

                “I thought you would appreciate the chance to sleep in a little.”

                “You know that I wake up with the sun.”

                “Then I see no problem. The only change to your schedule was that I was not on it.”

                “That is a big change! You are my morning schedule!”

                Santana found the words oddly endearing, even if that hadn’t been the little girl’s intention. Rachel most likely missed the opportunity to perform, not necessarily her company. Without permission Rachel sank down into the seat across from the princess. “Have I done something to upset you, Santana?”

                Santana frowned, pausing over her food. “What are you going on about, Rachel?”

                “You sent me away after the conversation about the festival, and now you didn’t send for me this morning. Have you replaced me with Brad? Did you find a new songbird?”

                Rachel looked hurt, her eyes wide and child-like. Rachel was always so dramatic which meant that she took offense easily. Sometimes she wondered if they had been switched at birth because Rachel acted like the world revolved around her instead of Santana. “I _sent_ you away, I didn’t banish you. I _am_ the princess of a very large and powerful kingdom. Pardon me if my schedule can be hectic.”

                “There is no need to be sarcastic, Santana,” Rachel huffed, her avecanora actually chastising her. Santana couldn’t help the eye-roll this time, because she really did let this girl get away with things that no one else could. If her parents’ knew!

                “Anyway, Rachel. Do you realize that we will be leaving Vista Terreno in four days? That kind of move takes some consideration.” She hadn’t spent much time thinking about it, but she wondered if Gabriella was going to stay at the country home now that she would be the only one of the family here. Sure she had some friends out in the country; every time Santana looked up she always seemed to be in the company of either Bree or Sugar, two of their barreño cousins, and it wasn’t exactly like they spent all that much time together as it was, but still it seemed sad, the thought of her being out here by herself.

                “What do you mean, princess?” Rachel must have been seriously shocked if she had called Santana by her actual title.

                “We will be attending the Autumn Festival in Jardín Floreciente. Once my crop is planted and harvested I will be the Intended, which means I have to live in the capital city.”

                It was remarkable how quickly tears came to her eyes. Santana looked at them in panic. “What’s wrong? If you’re leaving behind a friend or a family member, I can take them with me. My mother asked if I needed staff…”

                “N-no,” Rachel gave a hiccup, “I have no friends, and you and Puck are my family.”

                It was such an odd thing for a servant to say to a member of the royal family; they were as far from being related as it was possible to be. “Rachel, we’re not related.”

                “You don’t have to be related, to be family.” Rachel said dismissively, as if that were simple. “I have no one else. I’ve never had a mother, and after dad died, daddy hasn’t, I haven’t had a home with him in a long time.”

                Santana wasn’t surprised to find out that Rachel had two dads, (in Arroyo, a good deal of adopted children did), but that she had a dad at all. Like with Maya, she never really spent much time thinking about the lives of her servants when they weren’t around her. She never spent time thinking about whether or not they were like her.

                “When did your dad die?”

                “When I was 10.”

                Santana thought back to that age, remembering only that Rachel, who was mostly just a playmate then, had been rather pouty, and Santana had insisted on hanging out with other children during that time.

                “I’m…sorry?”

                “It was 8 years ago, but it broke daddy’s heart.”

                “What was his name?”

                “Leroi. And Daddy’s Hiram.”

                “Hiram as in the head of house discipline?” Rachel sniffled, and nodded. “You mean the one that…,” she faltered because they never talked about her beating. “To your back?”

                Rachel nodded, without any real feelings showing. “That was your _father_?”

                “He takes his job seriously,” Rachel remarked.

                 “Shouldn’t you _want_ to be far away from him, then?” Santana questioned.

                “I do, it’s just that Terreno is my _h-home_ ,” and she was sobbing again. “The only one I’ve ever known.”

                Santana had to fight not to roll her eyes. “Well, if you like you can stay here, but if you do you’ll have no one to sing to, and just imagine how many people you’ll get to show off to at functions, and galas, and estate dinners. Imagine all of those pretty dresses you’ll miss out on wearing!” Santana could see Rachel imaging the possibilities. “You won’t be able to attend those from Vista Terreno, and once we get to the city, I’ll even be sure to see to it that you have a nice bedroom, and we can decorate it in whatever color you want.”

                Rachel peered at Santana through her tears. “Really?”

                “Yes,” Santana assured her. This brought a fresh smile to her face. God this girl. Santana had once had a cat that was less demanding then she was.

 *

                In celebration of the upcoming Autumn Festival (and to cheer up a still slightly sulky Rachel-bird), Santana decided to go to the market in town. There was little Santana liked more than going to market with a purse filled with coins, (and a palace script to cover any additional purchases, if her purse didn’t prove to be enough). Her father, always a little overbearing, wanted her to take a litter and a whole guard with her, but for her that ruined the whole experience, not to mention that it was overkill for the small Terreno market. Instead she took Puck, and her songbird, and just one guard who gave her 20 feet of space as she perused the market stalls wearing clothes borrowed from Puck’s home so she wouldn’t be marked as a princess, but as just another member of the barreño class. Her father had told her that she could get one thing, but he never really held her to that, and he didn’t really want her to approach the festival not looking the part of a princess did he? She did vow to limit her purchases to no more than Puck could carry.

                As soon as they passed through the entrance of the market, Rachel opened her mouth, but Santana quickly cut her off. “Berry, if you can somehow go the afternoon without irritating the holy hell out of me, I’ll let you pick out something special.” Predictably, the girl squealed.

                Rachel walked ahead of the both of them, practically skipping through the crowd amazed by everything on display. Puck stayed by Santana’s side, however, paying more attention to the crowd than the booths. “Since when are you this nice to the bird?” Puck questioned.

                “She freaked for a minute when I told her about the move. I’m trying to distract her. How do you feel about it?”

                Puck’s eyes lingered on a girl who was standing in front of one of the clothing stalls. “What? Oh.” He shrugged. Puck was always so articulate.

                “Is there anyone you wish to bring along with you? Any article I should notify the staff that you wish moved? I know it’s not permanent for you-,”

                Puck cut her off, “What you won’t be keeping me as your man whore from now until forever?” he joked.

                “Umm…”

                “I’m just kidding with you, Lopez. I know you love the ladies.”

                “How do you know that?”

                “Cause I’m a stud, and you only want me to try to make a baby.”

                “Not a baby,” Santana corrected. “A crop.”

                “Yeah, that.”

                “So is there perhaps a _girl_ you want me to bring with us?”

                His eyes lingered on a random girl in the crowd. “I wouldn’t mind that tasty little bañista of yours.”

                The thought that Puck desired the girl that she had had earlier this morning, put a smile on her face.

                “Sorry. She’s staying behind. Mother’s promised to get me two of the best bañistas once we move.”

                “Oh, pity,” Puck pouted. “I kind of liked her. And that’s sweet of you to offer, but they will cut my balls off if I go ‘planting’ before I set a crop in you.”

                “You are so crude, Puck. Do you have to act so _common_? You would think your blood was filled with peasants and servants and not Queens and Kings.”

                Puck placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek. “You’re just jealous because I get to say and do the things you can’t. And seriously, they will cut off my balls if I waste my seed; you know the rules.”

                 Actually, once Noah conceived with Santana, he would undergo a procedure that would make it impossible for him to otherwise have children. He would still be able to have sex, but he would not be able to have any more children.

                “Well, I will try to get pregnant as soon as possible to relieve you from your duties.”

                “Speaking of relief,” Noah said, lowering his voice. “Don’t you think we should get in as much practice as possible before the festival?”

                After her romp with Maya, the thought of Noah just seemed so anti-climactic, but hey, the more coupling they did, the sooner the harvest, the sooner she would be freed from her obligations until she was married to Prince Matthew.

                “Come by after dinner,” the princess said by way of answer.

                Puck was about to say something in response when Santana heard the unmistakable sound of flesh hitting flesh followed by a pain-induced cry. The princess probably wouldn’t have paused, if the anguished high pitched timbre of the voice hadn’t alerted Santana to the fact that the recipient of the lash was female. Santana looked at Rachel and could tell by the flicker in her eye that the girl had noticed it, too, but Puck didn’t even pause in the conversation. None of the other market goers seemed to otherwise care, either.

                Santana’s feet propelled her forward, until she heard the sound again. This time it sounded like a whip, and was closely followed by a pained whimpering. Santana’s eyes scanned for the source, finally locking onto the eyes of a seller that looked unlike any she had ever seen before. Behind a stall, he was busy kicking out at a pet who looked like she had been beaten and kicked way too many times.

                “Noah,” Santana commanded.

                Puck surged forward, getting between the owner and the pet just as he was raising the whip to hit it again. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Puck asserted.

                “Get out of my way!” the man grunted. “She don’t obey, I’ll teach her to listen!”

                “Unless you wish for this moment to be the last of your life, I wouldn’t attempt to do that again.”

                “And who the ruddy hell do you think you are?”

                They were starting to draw a crowd. Unless they ended this right now, it would get back to the Queen and King. A boy, a year short of being a man pulled on the strange man’s arm. “I’d listen. That’s the Princess’ man.”

                “Yeah, well she’s my property, and as such I’ll do as I please!”

                Santana stepped forward. In a calm but steely voice she demanded, “How much do you want for her?”

                “She ain’t for sale! You can rent yourself a night with her, but she ain’t for sale!”

                “I asked you how much,” Santana said, her eyes flashing with her anger, and she could feel a few people in the crowd step back. She didn’t know why she cared so much. She looked nothing like Rachel. In fact she looked nothing like any one she had ever seen before, but when she looked at the pet all she could think about was her song bird, and how she looked after Hiram, _her father_ , had gotten done with her. “I am _Princess_ Santana of Arroyo, and I wish to purchase her. So _howmuch_?” The owner seemed to realize that he was in over his head. The girl was his cash cow, without her he didn’t have a living. “And before you give me a quote, remember that you are a stranger operating on my land, and if you wish to be able to remain to do so I wouldn’t attempt to cheat me.”

                The man very carefully considered her words. “40 head,” the man said.

                Santana nodded at Puck, who quickly shelled out the coins.

                The man threw the leash at her. “Here, princess.”

                Santana gave a look to her guard. He nodded solemnly. Puck picked up the leash from the ground and placed it gently in Santana’s hand. “Does she have a name?” Santana saw the answer for herself; she read it off of the collar around her neck at the same moment the man grunted, “Brittany.”

                In the commotion, Rachel had flitted to her side, and Puck nudged them away from the crowd, so that all of them had their backs to the man when the guard struck him down. Santana looked at the cowering pet, the source of all of this commotion. _Brittany_. She repeated. What a strange name.


	3. The Basin

                Santana placed an arm around the pet to guide her through the crowds that still lined the market streets. Both Rachel and Puck gasped when her skin made contact with the girl’s, surprised that the Princess would get so close to the…they weren’t really sure what the Brittany was. Santana, too, was curious, but she could see how shaken the girl was, and she wanted to provide her with some form of comfort. She gently stroked a hand along the girl’s exposed neck, and when she did she let out a sound that reminded her a lot of the noise her cat used to make. She liked to be petted as well.

                “Puck, as soon as we get home, find Isobel and have her meet me in my chambers.”

                “Yes, Princess,” Puck answered recognizing the command. The girl still shook, as if fearful of being hit. “Sssh, darling cariño.” This is what she always used to say to her cat. “You are okay here. No one will hurt you.” The Princess looked on Brittany’s wounds with disgust. Who would do this to a living being? Santana could see that the girl’s wounds affected Rachel, too. Apparently even though her wounds had long healed they had still done damage. Santana held her arms open to her song bird. “Come here my cantorcita,” she directed. Rachel eagerly joined the Princess on her side of the carriage. She wrapped her arms tightly around Santana’s waist, burying her face in the crook of Santana’s neck. It tickled and excited her.

                Santana sat on the brownish red leather seats of the carriage somewhat awkwardly, with her songbird curled into one side, and the pet in the other, and she was careful to hold herself in a way that she didn’t disturb either girl too much as they bounced along on the road that would lead them back to the palace. “Sing, Rachel. Maybe that will calm her.” For the pet had started to cry.

                Rachel remembered a lullaby her daddy used to sing to her about the moon over Arroyo. It was slow, and kind of haunting, but Rachel’s voice was clear and bright. As the words fell from her mouth, her demeanor changed. She straightened on the seat, and her face lit up the way it was wont to do whenever Rachel sang. Santana found herself singing along with the girl, weaving in her own smoky voice among and around Rachel’s.

                Brittany stopped crying and listened with her mouth hanging open, a dazed expression on her face. Even though she continued to sniffle, her eyes slowly closed, and by the time they made it back to the Palace, the girl was comfortably asleep with her head in Santana’s lap. Santana gave an appreciative grin over the pet’s head. Even though Rachel was only doing her job, Santana let out a very warm, “Thank you, Berry,” when the carriage came to a stop beside the entrance to the courtyard.

                Santana didn’t think that another creature was what her father had in mind when he told her she could make a purchase, so the Princess was very keen on him not knowing. Although the coachman had drawn the carriage to the courtyard, the side of the palace that was closest to her suite, because the pet had fallen asleep, the Princess and the songbird waited in the carriage while Puck went to fetch Isobel and two sentries.

                While they had been traveling back to the palace, Santana had been running through her mind the things that she would need, and so as soon as she saw Isobel she began issuing directions, as one of the sentries very carefully lifted the girl up. “I will need the bañista, the doctor, a pallet for her to sleep on, and she’s probably hungry so she’ll need something to eat.”

                Isobel looked with extreme distaste at the girl who was now resting in the sentry’s muscular arms, being careful not to let the Princess see her look. “What do you think _it_ eats?”

                “Bring me a bowl ofbarley and oats with honey, one of berries, a plate of cold ham and sausage, some hot cornmeal, cut apples, and the mixture that they made up for el gato when he was here, and we’ll see what she takes to. She’ll need something to wear as well.” Santana tried to think if she was forgetting anything. “And a water bowl.”

                Isobel gave a nod, but she was troubled, and Santana noticed. “What is it, Isobel?”

                “Do you think it wise, for me to call the doctor, and not the groom?”

                Santana paused to consider. “Bring both,” she decided. “And a tub to bathe her in,” she added at the last minute, realizing that it was probably not proper to have the pet bathed in the same bath that the servants did.

                Isobel nodded before scampering off to do the Princess’ bidding, while she, Puck, Rachel, the Sentry, and the Pet, continued on to her suite. Santana had always been particularly fond of her room at the palace. The furniture was soft, comforting, the room was never cold though other parts of the palace were known to be drafty, and it had this rustic quality to it, that Santana could never explain if someone were to ask what she meant, though no one ever did. Her ‘room’ wasn’t like some boxy structure in the servant quarters. The walls were rounded, and hung with tapestries that were about as old as the kingdom. Her favorite was the purple mountains of De Sur, with a view of the ocean in the background. Her bed, a giant four-poster with intricately carved posts that depicted scenes from Arroyo’s past, and was covered with a rich red and gold coverlet that had once belonged to one of her aunt’s, sat on a raised platform overlooking the rest of the room.

                Farthest from the bed was her sitting area, with fine deep plum couches with gold trim, and chairs that matched, that faced a small stage where her songbird sometimes stood to sing to her. Opposite that, and with windows that gave the Princess a view of the garden, was where the Princess took her morning meals, and her pre-siesta tapas. The fireplace, large enough to sit in (and actually fitted with two benches on each side), was on the wall opposite the bed, but two servants fanned the air throughout the room in the winter, so that it was never cold. The floor was carpeted with the softest carpets that Santana had ever stepped on, in colors of deep greens, reds, purples and golds, oranges, and yellows. The door to her baths was on the same side of the room as the fireplace, as was her wardrobes, where there was a small privacy screen for where she was dressed, and a body-length mirror so she could see herself as she did so.

                Inside the Princess immaculate suite, they didn’t quite know what to do with the Brittany. She couldn’t be sat on the Princess’ bed, not in her state, but Santana didn’t want her set upon the uncarpeted parts of the floor either. It was finally decided to lay her on a make-shift bed of servant towels, until the pallet could be brought in.

                Santana watched in fascination as the Brittany was bathed, curious as to what it was she ‘bought’ from the market. The Brittany had two feet, and two hands, and all the other parts, as if she were a person, but an odd one that looked like she wasn’t wearing any skin. Santana could actually see the veins beneath it in certain parts, and the bath changed her color, like a chameleon, only instead of turning the pet clear, she got a splotchy color of red similar to a pepper, instead.

                Unlike all of the people in her life, her hair was very short, and thin, and looked like the straw that the groom fed the horses. Santana wanted to touch it, but worried that it was that way because of some sort of illness. Even her eyes were strange, broken. They were blue, as if she had stolen the color from the sky, and trapped it with her gaze. Santana looked at her and feared that she would be captured by those same eyes, and that everyone would then be looking at Santana through them. She wanted to cover her eyes with dark lenses, like they used to protect eyes from the sun. She wanted to know how to release that color from her eyes.

                Her body, too, seemed without the proper proportions. It was so incredibly thin that it looked as if maybe she was starved. There was no plump to her breast, or hips, or stomach, even her lips were thin. Santana couldn’t stop staring. She had never seen something so exotic before.

                After her bath, first the groom, then the doctor (after it was determined that she was more human than not) examined the girl. The pet didn’t like the examination, and it took a firm hand by Santana to calm her down. Her eyes, still flashed wildly about her, though, until they landed on Santana and she calmed. “There’s nothing wrong with her other than she got herself a good working over,” the doctor finally pronounced. He patted the Brittany on the head. “Someone’s been a naughty girl hasn’t she,” he cooed. To the Princess he said, “The cuts and bruises should heal well enough, and with a little rest she’ll be good as new.”

                Santana was surprised that the doctor spoke so mildly. “What’s wrong with her skin?”

                “Oh, that,” the doctor chuckled. “Nothing to be done about that;that’s just how they look over in Sylvan.”

                “Sylvan?”

                His brow pulled down thoughtfully. The doctor tutted. “Princess, are you to tell me that you’ve never seen someone from Sylvan before?”

                The Princess didn’t like being treated as if there were things that she didn’t know. “No,” she nearly snapped. “I’ve read of them, though.”

                “Well, Arroyo doesn’t have much contact with them because they aren’t much like us. We’re farmers, and framers, and builders. Most of our kingdoms’ wealth stays in the kingdom, but they’re a merchant people. They find and buy things, and sell them to other people. They are trappers and traders. I hear they like trading so much, they’d sell their own kids if they could make a profit from it. We do business with them, but they hardly ever step on our lands because we’ve never much trusted them.”

                Santana’s eyes fell on the Brittany. “Can they talk?” Santana questioned. At a traveling fair she had once seen a parrot that could mimic human words. “All she’s done is make strange sounds.”

                The doctor gave her a kind look. “I suppose to _her_ they mean something, and they’d have to be able to talk in order to trade, but maybe it’s only the men who can. I’ve never heard a female to do, but then my knowledge of them is limited. I saw one when I was just newly a man, and once again when I was traveling with your father when I was 30. If I had to make a guess, I’d say that this one is about your age, and if I had to make a recommendation, I would suggest you toss her back out onto the street. If she was beaten it’s because she doesn’t know how to obey, which means she can’t be trusted. I’d be careful with it, if I were you.”

                Santana looked back at her pet. “Can you speak?” she questioned in a soft voice. Sadly, thecreature just made more incomprehensible garbles and looked up with those doleful color stealing eyes.

                “Thank you, doctor,” the Princess said, realizing that she was being awfully gracious and liberal with the ‘thank you’s’ today. “Just don’t tell my father.”

                “Oh, don’t worry about that, he already knows,” a booming voice came from the doorway. Santana nearly jumped, and the Brittany startled, and scrambled to hide herself behind Santana. “Santana,” the King said sternly. “I said that you could buy yourself some pretty things, I didn’t say bring home another mouth to feed!”

                “But she was being beaten, papi!”Santana found it hard to move because the Brittany was gripping her robes so tightly. “I couldn’t leave her with him.”

                “If she was his property you should have.”

                “He was on our lands, which means that should I choose she is my property, and I offered him money!”

                “Aye, you are your mother’s daughter that is for certain. And what is your intention, mija? To make her part of your staff?”

                It was an intended as a joke, and both of them took it as such. “No. I thought to keep her as a pet. After all I have Rachel.”

                “Rachel is known. We know her pedigree. This Sylvan female we know nothing about her. What if she attacks you or Gabriella?”

                “She won’t,” Santana insisted. The Princess just had a feeling about this.

                “You are packing up from Terrano before weeks end. Four days.”

                “And I will bring her with me. Papi please?” The Princess was not used to begging. She always got her way.

                The King seemed to remember this. Maribel was so much better at reigning her daughter in. “Fine, Santana, but if she ever gives you the kind of trouble that earned her those stripes on her back, she will be put down. No questions! I don’t care how long you stare at me with those puppy-dog eyes.”

                “Yes, father,” Santana quickly agreed.

                The King wasn’t ready to fully admit defeat. “And she stays collared and leashed any time she’s outside of the house,” he ordered. “No exceptions! Do you understand me?”

                “Yo entiendo.”

                This, of course meant that Santana would have to go shopping for a more fitting collar than the course leather one she was wearing now, because no pet or servant of the Princess could be seen wearing something so…gross.

                Santana let out a breath when her father strode from the room. Rachel and Puck came back from the task that Santana had set them to, which reminded her that her bañista was still in the bathing room, and she had use for her, especially if she and Puck were going to spend the night practicing.

                Her eyes flew to Puck, and caught him flat out gawking at the naked body of her pet; his eyes roaming over the Brittany’s unclothed body. Santana scowled at him because she hadn’t really noticed her nakedness until just now.

                “Puck, can you find Isobel and tell her I would like an extra bañista’s uniform for my pet to wear?”

                She wouldn’t have otherwise insisted that she be somewhat covered because what need did a pet have for clothes, but she didn’t want anyone leering at her Brittany that way. Even Rachel appeared to giving the pet darting glances.Puck licked his lips. “Now, Puck!” she commanded, and he quickly left the room.

                Once he was gone she took a moment to look at the girl’s unclothed form. She could see that the girl was similar to her and the bañista, and yet different. She was female, yes, but while her skin could be considered almost peach, her breasts were even lighter, the color of milk maybe, and her nipples, and the skin surrounding them, were pink instead of brown. Her public hair was the same color as the hair on her head.

                Unless Isobel brought back with her a smock as well as the uniform, she was going to have to send her to fetch the tailor as well because the bañista uniform wouldn’t do anything to cover up those horrible welts and scratches all along her back and the back of her legs, and Santana couldn’t bear to continue to look at them. They made her so angry that she would have beat the crap out of the guy who had caused them, if she didn’t know him to already be dead.

                Santana looked at Rachel to see if she was affected by the welts, and caught the songbird’s curious gaze. “Have you never seen another female naked, Berry?”

                Rachel startled and ducked her head. “I have Princess,” she quickly responded, a heavy glow warming her cheeks. The Princess wondered who, but then it struck her that perhaps the body that her songbird had seen naked was her own. The songbird was present when she and Puck were having sex, but she didn’t often shed all of her clothes when they practiced. The songbird was, however, in the bathing room with her when she was getting washed. The thought that her songbird occasioned a glance at her body, had her smirking. She couldn’t just let that knowledge go. After all, she did flat out enjoy torturing the girl sometimes.

                “Did you like what you saw,” Santana questioned, nearly pressing her lips to Rachel’s ears. It caused a shiver to run through the girl’s body. “Did you like watching another person’s hands on me? Do you watch when me and Puck have sex?”

                “N-no,” Rachel stammered.

                That stammer told Santana everything that she needed to know. “You can, you know,” Santana said, lowering her voice. She watched the lightest shiver go through Rachel’s body. “Watch.”

                Santana drew back a mere seconds before the door was opened, and Isobel walked in. Followed by a servant carrying a newly constructed pallet for the Brittany, which Santana directed to be placed on the dais, at the foot of her bed, and two footmen carrying the requested food, which was unceremoniously placed on the floor next to the pallet.

                Isobel did not bring a smock, so she had to be send back out to fetch the tailor, which she was very displeased about, but kept herself professional about. Santana had the bañista come back into the room in order to dress the pet because, like bathing, she had very little experience in doing so herself. The gold bands didn’t look half as striking against her skin as it did against the bañistas, so that was something the tailor was going to have to fix as well.

                Once the pet had some clothes, though, Santana sat down on a poof beside the food, and experiment with what the Brittany liked. She quickly learned that she didn’t like the same food el gato had liked. She tasted it, spit it out, and refused any more. She would eat some of the dry oats, especially if there were berries and/or honey mixed in with it, but it didn’t seem as if she found it very palatable. She took more to the hot cornmeal, liking that with a little honey as well. She wasn’t a fan of the barley, she liked the apples, and she loved the meat. The cold ham more than the sausages.

                “Now, you can’t have honey _all_ the time,” Santana warned, watching the pet lick some of the excess off of her fingers. “It’s not common, and papi would be very angry at me if he found out I was just giving it away to you at meals.”

                Santana fed her another apple slice. The Brittany eagerly ate it from her fingers, just like one of the horses, and looked at her with a smile. “Maybe a dab or two, once a month.”

                Puck came back into the room, his eyes locked on the Princess feeding the Brittany. “Is people food coming?” he questioned. “Man, I’m starved.”

                “Isobel said the kitchen should be sending up some tapas soon,” Santana said in answer.

                “Tapas?” Puck frowned. “How far until dinner?”

                “Four hours,” Santana answered. “Berry, did you wish to eat some of this?” she waved at the food that wasn’t consumed by her pet.

                Rachel nodded. The term ‘songbird’ was so apt because she even ate like a bird. Santana watched her mix the barley and the rolled oats with some berries and honey, and eat it like she was actually a fan of the taste. She frowned, like she always did, at the meat, and looked at the empty bowl of cornmeal with sadness, as if she missed out on some big treat. If Santana remembered she would make sure that at the first dinner in the new place, she would make sure that she had some cornmeal mush. Santana was sure she had never eaten that even once in her life.

                The Brittany fell asleep shortly after she ate, sticky fingers, crumbs on her mouth and all. Santana thought about having Puck lift her into her pallet, but decided not to chance waking her.

                “That’s something you got there,” Puck remarked, looking down on the sleeping girl.

                Santana felt like rolling her eyes. “You want to sleep with her, don’t you? Would you sleep with a pig? Or a cat?”

                Puck shrugged his shoulders. “Ah come on, we both can see she’s got all the right parts, same as you, and I’m a man, Princess. I like anything that will wet my whistle.”

                “I can’t believe we’re actually related Puck. That is so gross.”

                “It’s what makes us human, and anyway, you know that’s what she,” he pointed to the Brittany in case Santana didn’t know he was talking about was being used for anyway.” Until Puck said those words, Santana hadn’t made the connection when the merchant had said it in the crowd. “A girl that’s been though that many guys? She probably _knows_ things.”

                Santana tried to hold on to the idea of a girl with so many guys. There were workers who sold sex for a living here, but they were mostly guys. The Princess shook such vulgar thoughts from her head.

                “Too bad you won’t be learning anything from her any time soon,” Santana said to him. “Now, pants off, and I think we should do this on the couch, because I don’t want you messing up my bed.”

                “You’re so romantic,” Puck responded.

                Santana didn’t have much patience, and she had other things she wanted to attend to. Actually, she didn’t see why she couldn’t tend to those things first. She looked at Rachel and wavered between taking her into the next room with her, or just leaving her behind. “Berry, keep an eye on my pet in case she wakes. She may need you to sing again.” It’s a decision if it’s anything, and she slips out of the room, making sure to tell the sentry at the door of her room, that no one is to disturb her in the bath.

                At first Santana thinks that the room is empty, because she doesn’t see anyone right away, but then she spots the bañista. She watches the girl’s movements, enjoying the casual sway of her hips, as she moves. She is adjusting pedals, and levers, as if the equipment is a musical instrument, and not a bath. “What are you doing?”

                Maya gasped audibly. “Princess!” From across the room, Santana can see the girls eyes fall to the floor. Slowly, Santana walks around the main floor, her sandals squeaking silently as she moves across the cold, gray stone of the bathroom floor. “That is not an answer to my question,” Santana notes when she is just a few feet from the girl.

                “Checking the machine work to make sure everything is in working order, Princess.”

                “And is it?” Santana questioned as if she had actually found any part of what Maya said in in way interesting.

                “Yes.”

                Santana walked behind her. When the bañista started to turn her head, Santana stopped her from doing so. “Explain it to me,” the Princess instructed.

                “Well, this valve is responsible for rotating the main gate,” Santana brushed the hair of the bañista off of her shoulder, placing a biting kiss on the top of her shoulder blade.

                Again, Maya tried to twist her head to see the Princess, but Santana prevented her from doing that. “I want you to keep talking,” Santana instructed. “I told you to explain to me how all of this works.”

                “Umm…” the poor girl cleared her throat. “This pipe, here…” and she went into a detailed explanation of the plumb work that Santana couldn’t care less about. Instead, she let her hands wander down Maya’s sides, tugging on her hips so that Maya’s back was flush with her front. Maya continued to talk, as Santana’s hands slid beneath the shift, her hands finding Maya’s breasts. Santana smiled when her breath hitched.

                “Have you been thinking about the other day?” Santana questioned. Maya paused in her detailing of the mechanics of the room. “Did you get wet for me just thinking about it? Are you wet right now, just from me kissing you?”

* * *

 

                Puck and Rachel look in her direction when she walked into the room. “Someone looks blowed,” Puck said coarsely.

                Without warning of any kind, Santana let her robe fall from around her. “Puck, pants, now.”

                Santana was pleased to see that he was already erect, and wouldn’t have to spend any time waiting for him to be ready for her. She pointed to the couch, and Puck obediently lay down. Santana floated over to where Rachel was stood, very carefully studying her feet. Santana gently lifted the songbird’s chin. “Don’t forget to watch.” On impulse, Santana pressed a quick kiss to the stunned girl’s lips before she strode effortlessly back to Puck and mounted him.

                Unlike their past sessions, which ranged in varying degrees of volume, this time she was purposely loud, and perhaps a little exaggerative, but she liked that she held Rachel’s eyes, and she wanted to give a show. It was good practice for the Autumn Festival, because most, if not all of that evening would be pure acting. Puck eagerly met the Princess enthusiastic gyrating, lifting his hips off of the couch, to meet her with each thrust. He played with her breast to offer extra stimulation. He wanted to look over to see if Rachel really was watching them, but he had eyes only for his Princess. She actually called his name a couple of times, too, something she hadn’t done before, and Puck knew that she was showing off, but he didn’t care.

                “Oh, Rachel!” Santana gasped loudly at her moment of climax. She watched in amusement as her cantorcita’s head snapped up, and those beautiful eyes locked briefly on her own. Santana winked at her, watching the embarrassed glow spread across Rachel’s face. She continued to ride Puck, leaning down to whisper encouragement in his ear, until he suddenly reached his own climax. He thrust up into Santana, emptying all of himself into the Princess.

                When it seemed that Puck was done, Santana slapped a hand on his chest, before stretching out on top of him. Puck gave a smile, wrapping his arms around the Princess. “Sing something,” Santana commands, tiredly. “Something light.” Santana turns her face to Rachel. “Sing me something that says, I want you in a way no one else can have you.”

                Santana is mildly surprised when Puck kissed the top of her head, but she inwardly just shrugs, as the songbird starts to sing, stumbling over the first words. Santana starts to turn her head away, to look down on Puck, perhaps even to grace him with a kiss on the lips, only to catch the eye of her pet. From the look on her face the Princess can easily tell that the Brittany wasn’t asleep during her and Puck’s frolicking. The Princess is nearly floored, when the pet gave her a smile and the smallest of winks before she shut her eyes.

Santana looked back to Puck, not sure of what she had just seen.

 

 


	4. The Tribute

 

The day of the move Princes Santana woke up early in the morning, on her own, and quietly slipped from her chambers without disturbing anyone. She wanted to bid good-bye to her home privately, without the eyesight of those who would wonder why the princess was so worked up over a place that she wasn't entirely leaving forever. What Santana didn't feel like explaining to anyone was that even though she may be allowed to come back here from time to time, this was the last morning that she had woken up with this being her bed, with this place being her home.

She remembered first being allowed into this room, the day it became  _hers._ She was five, and no more able to understood what it meant to be princess than a five year old child understood what it meant to be a servant. They'd had to have steps made just for her so she could crawl up into the bed, and she'd had had both a nanny and a nurse to walk behind her, and to comfort her if she woke from nightmares. A fire was always lit because she worried about the things that went on in the dark, and for the first two months a fully dressed soldier had stood at attention just beneath the dais while she slept so that the princess knew that even in her dreams she was well protected.

She had met Puck that same year, and some nights he slept in the bed with her. Although she had been told that Puck was  _her_  playmate, and  _her_  future basin, and  _her_  associate, she was a generous little girl, so most of the playing that they wanted to do was mostly what Puck wanted to do, because Puck could always find something, usually something that would get other children in trouble, but she was the princess, and although she was scolded from time to time, no real harm ever came to her.

In those days her favorite toy was her baby sister, Gabriella. She had elaborate gowns made for the little girl, and Santana treated her as if she were a doll. She knew 'soft' and 'gentle' and she fed the baby, and dressed the baby, and looked after the baby, and of course Gabriella's nurse let her, because for Santana it was a game, and it relieved some of the nurse's duties. Funny, Santana hadn't thought of either woman in years. They had been a constant presence in her life for the most informative years of her life, yet when they were no longer there, for her they were just gone.

That first year, they spent an entire year together as a family, with the Queen only leaving for brief moments every few weeks or so, to survey the kingdom, and to make sure all was well. Otherwise the Queen was in recovery from giving birth to two beautiful, healthy, baby girls. It was actually the only time period in Santana's life that she could remember feeling like she had parents. Her mother had taken her to the garden, and in a small back corner, Santana was giving seeds to press into the soil, and she would come back every day to see that her flowers were growing healthily. Two trees were planted in the arbor, too, one for Santana, and one for Gabriella, and every time Santana felt a little bigger, she'd demand to be brought to her tree where they would mark her height against it.

Santana vowed that she would do these same things with her children, despite that she didn't desire to ever have any, and would probably be as reserved with them as her mother was with her. For maybe the first time, Santana wondered about her mother's 'crop', the child that resulted from her planting with her mother's basin. The child that, were they a legitimate child, would be her sibling. She supposed that she could ask about them, but she never thought to before, and by the time the Queen was up, she was sure she would once again forget. She did wonder though, if the Queen ever spent time with him/her. Would she feel any inclination to spend time with her own?

She didn't have much time to dwell on the thought, as the surroundings kept most of her attention. This place just held so many memories for her. So, yes, she needed just a little time to go through it and say good-bye. Not only would she be in a different surrounding later on today, she would be a different person following the Autumn Festival. She wasn't just saying good-bye to her home, she was saying good-bye to herself. To the younger, care-free Santana, the one who was only a princess in name. As soon as she got planted she would no longer be the same person. After she and Puck had sex at the Autumn Festival, she would officially be considered a woman, her manner of dress would be different, the way people addressed her would be different; she would have to start living up to her title.

The princess heard the familiar sound of her cantorcita, and followed it out to the gazebo were the song bird was singing her little heart out. Santana didn't recognize the song, nor was it one that she expressly liked; it was one that Rachel had chosen to sing on her own, and she sang it passionately and without reserve. Listening, Santana wondered how her voice didn't wake the sleeping house. Santana was surprised when she saw the Brittany, sitting on the upper step of the gazebo, watching Rachel with a dazed look. Santana wondered who had gotten whom: had her pet gotten her songbird, or the other way around. So far Rachel and the Brittany had gotten along surprisingly well, but usually the pet didn't like to leave Santana's side unless the princess forcibly sent her away. If the Brittany had gotten Rachel, how had she even known where Rachel stayed? Santana didn't even know, but then if she ever had need of the girl there was always someone to fetch her.

Rachel finished her song, and before Santana could make her presence known, the Brittany nudged Rachel and Rachel started singing a more upbeat song. Santana watched in fascination as the Brittany started to dance. Watching the pet move was mesmerizing. Santana couldn't look away. She was so fluid, and graceful. She didn't move in the proper steps of an Arroyan dance, but in the moment in didn't matter to Santana; it was beautiful. There was beauty in the sway of her hips, and the way she moved her arms, and flexed the muscles in her legs.

The princess wished that the pet could talk because she had so many questions about this Sylvan creature, and the land in which she came. When she got to Jardín Floreciente she would make her tutor tell her everything there was to know about Sylvan. In her head she pictured a sad land where the sun never shined because here the sun seemed to cause damage to her skin if she got too much of it. Even if the princess' sol lotion was rubbed into her skin, if she spent too much time out in the sun, her skin turned the color of a lady bug, and it peeled horribly. Santana didn't honestly know what to make of it, or her, but for all of her drawbacks, the Brittany was turning out to be a fantastic pet so far.

And now this! The combination of her songbird and her pet moving in perfect synchronicity with each other was simply breathtaking. It was like they were working together, as if maybe they had planned this, and yet it had the feeling of spontaneity to it. The princess wondered if it was too late to have a body suit made for the Brittany so that she could dance on the day of the Autumn Festival while Rachel sang. She was certain her subjects would enjoy that immensely, and yet she couldn't shake the feeling that her subjects would react to the pet the same way that Noah, and the doctor, and the groom, had. Besides, Brittany belonged to her, and she didn't want to share. It was bad enough that Rachel would be shown off.

The Brittany's eyes fell on Santana as she whirled about the wooded surface of the gazebo floor. The Brittany stopped, and rushed to Santana's side, pulling her along and up the steps. Rachel, though surprised, didn't stop singing. The princess didn't have time to scold her pet (not that she'd understand), about proper rules, and decorum, before she was being spun around, and the pet was forcing her to dance with her.

_"The Heavens moved, as she moved, across the floor_ ," Rachel sang, while Brittany tugged her along. Santana could dance. As the princess she had been taught all of the formal Arroyan dances.  _"Her heart in beat with her feet, requesting more."_  Dancing was considered vertical dancing, it was another way to prove veracity.  _"She can't help how she feels, is this real?"_  A good dancer, was perceived to be good in bed, and once again a ruler that was perceived to be good in bed was most likely to provide viable offspring. So Santana could dance, she knew how to move.  _"She'd give anything just to be like this, to feel..."_ She had danced with partners, with always space between them, but none of that was like dancing with the Brittany. " _Eternity_."

When the song ended, the Brittany placed a kiss on Santana's cheek, and to Santana's surprise the spot that she kissed instantly warmed. Rachel seemed to wake up as soon as she finished singing. "I-I'm sorry if we disturbed you, princess. I wasn't expecting you up so early."

Rachel instantly started to babble knowing how irritable Santana was in the mornings, but Santana cut her off. "It's alright, Rachel," Santana said, to soothe the girl's simpering. Santana scratched the Brittany on her head.

"If you don't mind me asking, why is your highness up so early?"

Santana sort of grimaced. "Because we are leaving for Jardín Floreciente today and I wanted to make sure that everything was in order for the move."

"Oh, right," Rachel responded. Her lighter brown eyes danced in her socket, and Santana could commiserate with her, for once.

The Princess looked around at the sprawling lawn that was still perfectly green despite that it would be officially the start of fall in two days. "I'm going to miss this place," Santana remarked. The Brittany, reacting to the sound in Santana's voice, nudged her hand until Santana looked at her. Santana impulsively kissed the girl's forehead, the same way she would with her cat, and smiled down at the pet. The Brittany beamed up at Santana, as if that small gesture made her the happiest thing in the world.

"You must be hungry, carino. My poor sweet. Let's get you something to eat."

Santana only noticed that the Brittany was without collar, and leash, when she reached for it only to find that the articles weren't there. She thought about scolding Rachel for allowing her out without the two items that her father had expressly commanded her to keep on her at all times, but decided to just let it go. She imagined Rachel was going to be somewhat difficult today, and she didn't need any more headaches.

* * *

Santana had fallen into a stupor, lulled into a half-sleep by the continuous rocking of the carriage, when Rachel's excited squeals broke into her sleep state, and she looked around to see the cause of the song bird's sudden excitement. A quick glance out the window told her everything that she needed to know. They were approaching la ciudad de Jardín Floreciente. The Flowering City. Santana could see the bright colors of the city even from this distance.

Jardín Floreciente was named the flowering or blooming garden for a reason: even the air in the Imperial city was somehow sweeter than back at the country palace in Terreno. The air was perfumed by the fragrance of the many flowers that populated seemingly every inch of the city. From the moment you approached the gates that were now cast open, you saw the reason the city was called the flowering garden. The main road went directly into the public gardens, where there was 25 acres of the most beautiful flora and fauna imaginable. There were Magnolia Trees, and Japanese Maples, and Pussy Willows, and Beech trees, Spruce Trees, and White Oaks. The walking pathways were lined with boxwood shrubs, and butterfly bushes, and lilac primroses. The two entrances were marked by tresses covered in Cyprus vines and roses.

And then there were the flowers. Between the public gardens, the palace, and the wealthy neighborhoods, there were thousands of different flowers. It was forbidden for anyone but the Flowering Committee to bring any new brand of flower into the city, but each neighborhood had its own flower designation; each noble family had their own flower on its crest. The flower of Arroyo was the Dahlia Piñata, and the Lopez's flower was the dragon flower. Santana's personal flower was the Hollyhock Alcea, and for the festival she would have a dress based on her flower.

The rio de la vida, the river of life, snaked its way through the city, providing a natural border to keep the palace, and the city as a whole, from being overrun by enemies. The royal palace and the Altura-the families just below the crown-families homes, were situated on the Mañana Meseta, the Morning Plateau. The Plateau, which could be seen from all four sides of the city, had the best view of the river, and the kingdom. (The plateau's core was also hollow. In case of an attack on Jardín Floreciente the royal family could be snuck out via a series of underground tunnels that went underneath the river itself. As a failsafe, the tunnels could also be flooded to thwart attackers coming at them from behind).

The Princess' caravan contained Isobel, the tutor, Puck, Santana, Rachel, and the pet. The tutor, who Santana wondered if had ever been to Jardín Floreciente before, kept a running commentary on the architecture, and the most popular gardens of the city. The Brittany bounced excitedly on the seat of the carriage, as their caravan wound further into the city. Santana was excited as well, because there was no denying how beautiful Jardín Floreciente was. It was the perfect balance between gentility and force. Kind of like the princess.

When they reached the bottom of Ascendente Hill, a parade of litters met their caravan, and the royal family disembarked from the carriages to begin the hour long trek up the hill. Their entourage got out and walked on foot, as the carriages were sent ahead of them. Thanks to the crier and the band, they did not enter the Climb without fanfare, and people flooded the streets to watch the royal family return home. Santana's litter was featured prominently, as this was her homecoming. Little girls and boys eagerly crowded the streets (but did not get in the way) as they were anxious to see the return of the princesses, and one day future Queen of Arroyo. Shop mothers and flower girls looked upon the undeniable beauty of Princess Santana and were simultaneously jealous, and proud that she would someday be their Queen. Field hands, guards, and gardener's, gazed at the opulence and dug their hoes further into the earth. Soldiers saluted.

Riding on a litter was slow going, and the whole trip itself, had been absolutely tiring, so that when they made it to the front entrance of the palace (and the side entrance for the servants), Santana felt exhausted. So much so that she bypassed exploring her new apartment, and had a bath immediately drawn for her.

Santana had forgotten about her mother's promise until she was undressed and in the presences of her new bañistas, both of which were female. The princess' minor regret about not bringing Maya was completely wiped from her mind when she saw the two flowering beauties before her. Instead of the bland pretty that Maya had been, each of these women were striking. One had dark, rich, luxurious black hair that rippled down her body all the way to the middle of her back, with succulent lips, long, thick fingers, and a neck that was just screaming to be kissed. The other had tanner skin, straight, shoulder length dark brown hair, and a waist line that was nearly perfect. Both of them had large breasts, larger than the princess', and each of them had the most exquisite nipples that Santana had ever seen on any woman. She licked her lips for want to taste them.

If Santana wasn't so travel-weary, she would have broken them both in right that second, perhaps at the same time but, as it was, despite how turned on they got her, all she yearned for was her bed. In her new apartment Santana actually had a dressing room, and she was led through to it, as she was dressed for the late evening. In an hour or two the dresser would return in order to dress her for bed, but for now she was dressed to entertain guests. Puck, Rachel, and the Brittany were waiting for her in her bedroom. Puck she dismissed to go explore the apartment on his own. Unlike her younger sister, Santana was considered old enough to have her own apartments, and the entire wing, both upstairs and down, now belonged to her. She had her own staff separate from the palace servants, too, even her own kitchen and chef.

Tomorrow morning, Santana would be introduced to the housekeeper, who would then introduce her to the entire staff. Santana would then set down the rules of the house, curfews, punishments, and things of that sort. Now that she was a woman, she was head of the household, and even if she didn't desire a hand in the working of her household, she needed to be aware of it.

"Well, I'd say that was a day," the princess declared, looking from Rachel to the Brittany. Her pet had a pallet already set up for her on the floor, including a gilded water bowl for her to drink from, so she was all set in the new place, but as for Rachel's accommodations, she would have to ask the new housekeeper, Gloria. Puck, as a barreno, had accommodations on the same floor as Santana, but the songbird was a servant, so her room should be on the first floor where all the other servant rooms were. If that were the case, she would see to it that Rachel's room was moved to the second floor.

"Would you like me to sing you something relaxing, Santana?" Rachel questioned. If Rachel sang Santana something relaxing, she was likely to fall asleep where she stood.

* * *

The Autumn Festival took place in the fairgrounds in the very center of the public gardens. It was one of the largest events of the year in Arroyo, with festivals being held in town centers all across the country. In the Imperial City, and it being the year that the oldest child had their first 'deflowering' or planting of the crop, it was the biggest event of the year, perhaps of the half decade or longer. The festival, normally a weekend event, became a week-long festival that had a feast at the beginning and another at the end, and in between the showing of the finest specimens of the late summer crops, and the canning, and the preserve making, there were plays, and music, and lots of deserts, and dozens of games for the children to play, and probably the best part of the whole event: the planting.

The planting was, in the crudest of terms, a public orgy. That is what lesser minds from not as developed countries would say. What it really was, was the moment that the country joined in solidarity in continuing its existence through the creation of the next generation. The princess would, naturally, go first on the first day of the Thesmophoria in order to open the festival, but each day after that, there was a public planting. Every year at this time, the women who were of age, (16 if their birthday fell on the earlier part of the year, 15 if it fell on the later-half), would choose, from among their station, a male whom she deemed worthy of partnership. If six to seven weeks after the festival the woman appeared to be with child, the pair would then be joined together, legally bound to each other at least until their youngest child became of age. If not, the pairing could try again for a child, or for another partner they were more sexually compatible with.

(There were separate rules for couplings that were of the same gender. Since the Autumn Festival was about collecting the last 'crop' of the year, and sex was had with the intention of producing a child, all couplings were male-female. As a side note, if a same-sex female pair wanted to have a child, they could choose a male in a same-sex male relationship, but only if he hadn't fathered children with another same-sex female. Joined same sex couples with children followed the same binding rules as opposite sex relations, i.e. that you were bound to your partner for at least as long as it took for your youngest child to come of age).

For the festival there were four bands, and three separate choirs. Santana had arranged for Rachel to sing with the Rose Choir at the very beginning of the festival in order to set her nerves right, and as a special gift to her little songbird she presented Rachel with two opportunities to sing solos: once in the ceremony preceding, and then again in the ceremony closing out the festivities for First Night.

Puck was her escort for First Night, and for once he looked as if he might have some royal blood in him after all. He was wearing robes of honeydew, chamoisee, and citrine, a combination that made his eyes really pop, and made him look tastefully distinguished. Santana had never paid attention before, but her basin was actually very good looking. He made a good escort. Looking just as distinguished, more even, was the princess herself. Her hair was a stacked tower, with two strands curled into her face, and braids of hollyhocks twisted into the body of her hair. She was wearing a robe fashioned to look like a dress. The body of the robe was raspberry, with the sleeves being vermillion with lines of rosso corsa interwoven. The bodice was a jasmine and pistachio color, and the belt that encircled her waist was ochre belt. The effect was, stunning. From a distance, the princess looked like her flower.

Although not as elaborate as either the princess of the barreño, even Rachel and the Brittany were dressed up. The Brittany was wearing a simple shift dress of periwinkle, and Rachel's gown, with a slit up to mid-calf, was a vermillion color, and shimmered when she walked. Rachel was dismissed as soon as she was attired in order to quickly learn the song that the choir was singing, and even with more than 30 voices surrounding her, when the choir took the stage, Santana could distinguish her songbird's voice.

The princess was sure that her little songbird was quite pleased with herself when the song was finished, and found out how true that was when it was time for the main ceremony. Rachel sang with much energy, and danced her little body around the stage as if she had no other desire in the world than to sing with thousands of eyes gazing upon her. Santana got caught up in watching her, and it was almost enough to take her mind away from what she was about to do. Almost.

There was an almost literalness to the word 'deflowering'. Santana was dressed to resemble a flower, and as she was prepared for the show, the chains of flowers were carefully unbraided from her hair. While Santana was being attended too, Puck's robe was removed. When some of the older women cat-called at the side of his naked body, Puck smiled at them and tried out statue poses. Rachel's voice swelled out over the crowd and Santana could tell she was immensely enjoying herself. Her cantorcita was a bit of a ham.

A nod was given to the princess, and here was the point where she could either have the screens drawn around them, or she could leave the scene the way it was. Santana didn't motion for the screens to be drawn. Instead she motioned for the dressers to remove her robe. She stood naked in front of the subjects that had gathered here for the ceremony, meeting a couple of the curious gazes, smiling when they dropped their eyes, or even more boldly, met her eyes for a second or two.

No one dared whistle or cat call towards the princess. Puck was an object. A classed object, but an object nonetheless. Santana was their future Queen, and as so got the respect that she deserved. They looked upon her in her beauty, and saw the future Queen. They saw the ruler of their country, they saw a blood line that went back two hundred years, and they saw this first step in showing the continuation of that uninterrupted bloodline that was first started by Queen Renata Lopez so very long ago.

Gracefully, Santana mounted her basin in what was now a fairly familiar manner. She briefly noted the presence of her parents sitting atop their thrones, but then she looked down at Puck, who was grinning up impishly at her. Santana wanted to make short work of the event, but this was her flowering moment, this was the Autumn Festival of the year she turned 16, and this could, conceivably be the day that would begin Santana's bid for Queen. So she drew it out, imagining that she was on top of Maya, or the new bañistas, or Rachel (who she had decided to take to bed on the last day of the festival), instead of on top of Puck who, while handsome, and funny, did nothing for her sexually.

When they finished, the crowd cheered, she was dressed for the first time in the bata mujer, the style of gown adult woman wore, and lead off the stage. While Santana was given a quick bath, Rachel was brought out to sing once again, and judging by the energy that she brought, Santana would have wagered that Rachel thoroughly enjoyed every minute of the singing. She wondered what the girl thought about the deflowering, and decided to take her songbird to bed on the last night of the festival.

* * *

The moon had been up for hours when they family returned to the Palace. At the front entrance, a footman bowed, seeking her attention. Santana addressed him. "Your royal highness, a vassal from Sylvan begs your audience."

Santana gave a quick glance over to her parents, more surprised that she was the one being addressed, than of being notified of a visitor so late at night. "My audience and not that of my parents?"

"That is correct, your highness. Shall I show them in?"

Maribel gave a slight nod. "That will be delightful," Santana responded. The can meet me in the throne room."

The sentry left to deliver the message. When he returned, Santana was situated on her stool, her tutor and Isobel positioned behind her, and her the Brittany sat at her feet. The herald proceeded the guests into the room. "Your Royal Highness, Senator of Easley Russell Fabray from Sylvan."

The man who entered the room was wearing the distinguished dress of an Arroyan Duke on journey, looking impressive despite that he had the same short, yellowish, colored hair, and pale skin that her pet did. His surrendered sword was carried by one of the palace guards. He kneeled when he was in front of the princess. "Your Royal Highness, Princess Santana of Arroyo, I am the Senator Easley of Sylvan, humbly in your presence today, on behalf of the Sylvan elected family to offer to you, as tribute, the services of the Lady Lucy of Easley."

At his words, a younger male, younger than the Senator, and judging by his dress a high up servant in the Fabray household, brought in a woman, dressed in one of the flowering dresses Arroyan noble girls wore. Her dress was either ironic, or showed an ignorance of Arroyan customs because the woman was pregnant, (but only just), which meant she should no longer be wearing the dress of a girl, but of a woman. The servant and lady both kneeled in front of her, the lady having to be forced to do so.

"For use at your pleasure," the Senator continued. "Upon learning of the immediacy of your highness' first Autumn Festival, my younger daughter, Lucy, was made to lay with her cousins until she became big with child, to provide for you not one, but two, tributes. To provide you with a wet nurse for your crop, and to provide your crop a playmate raised in complete subservience to the crown of Arroyo, may your rule extend far past the lives of this unborn child's children."

Santana looked at the woman being offered up to her, but there wasn't much to actually see. Both her head and her face were covered, her head by a hair wrap, and her face by a veil. The only thing present were her eyes, and while Santana was expecting those same color stealing eyes of her pet, the eyes that stared at her were brown with flecks of green in them. And instead of being lowered to the floor in subservience, they glowered daggers at the scene surrounding her. Despite whatever lip service this man, her father? was currently giving, his daughter was not on board with it. This…Lady Lucy, was certainly not pleased to be cast down into the role of a servant for Santana's benefit.

At this point, Santana could either accept the gift or refuse it. That the ruling family of Sylvan had sent this Senator all the way to Arroyo to provide a classed tribute to the princess (and not the yet Intended princess at that), spoke to the might of the Arroyan Empire. An acceptance of this gift wouldn't mean much, however a rejection would be a huge blow to the pride of Sylvan. If Sylvan were as equally matched in size and strength as Arroyo then perhaps such an act would be considered hostile enough to create war, but as Sylvan wasn't even a blip on the war screens, the Senator would merely returned shamed.

Absently, Santana's hand fell to stroke the Brittany's head. The tribute's eyes followed the motion, connecting for a moment with the eyes of Santana's pet.

Santana gave an almost imperceptible nod to the herald. "On behalf of her royal highness, the Princess of Arroyo accepts your gift."

Santana thought that that was it, but Isobel stared daggers at the princess until she opened her mouth. "Senator, how far of a journey is it to Sylvan?"

"A fortnight riding hard, your highness."

"There's a palace cottage in the village that you should find to your tastes. Herald, please see to it that they have the proper accommodation."

"Yes, your highness."

For one brief moment, when the Senator and his boy moved to leave, the tribute seemed anxious enough to let her fear show. She uttered a whimper, which momentarily stopped the Senator, who went to her side. He bent and whispered something furiously in her ear, and she hardly seemed comforted by whatever he said. It was hard to tell beneath the veil, but Santana was sure she caught a tear fall.

Once the room was emptied of all but her tutor, Isobel, and the tribute, Santana looked at the kneeling woman in front of her, whose eyes were now trained to the ground. "What am I supposed to do with a tribute?" the princess questioned. This was her first tribute, though certainly not the last.

Isobel and the tutor both looked at the lady. "Use her as a companion, as a concubine, once she has given birth, you can give her as a gift to your most loyal soldier, or to your favorite Duke, use her as a scullery maid; it is up to you to decide," the tutor said.

Isobel hoped that the princess didn't wish for another pet. "She is rather spirited," Isobel noted. "My recommendation is that you send her to Hiram to be properly trained."

Hiram. Santana ground her teeth together, in an unprincess like way. She wouldn't let Hiram's harsh lash fall against the skin of this tribute. No, if this one was going to be tamed, Santana decided she wanted to do the taming herself.

"I want her eyes on me," Santana commanded. Looks passed between Isobel and the tutor until Isobel motioned for one of the sentries to lift the girl's head. She was, in fact, crying, but that didn't stop her from attempting to jerk her head away from the guards. Oh yeah, this girl was definitely going to be a problem. The Princess wondered if this is why she was brought while she was pregnant: law wouldn't allow them to end the life of a pregnant woman.

"Do you speak?" Santana demanded.

The tribute said something the princess took for nonsensical yammering, but saw the Brittany's back stiffen. Santana looked from the Brittany to the Lady Lucy. So they could understand each other. Santana wondered if they knew each other. Perhaps, they were even related! Santana looked over the tribute. This girl would be a challenge. Nothing ever challenged the princess. Challenged and lived, she could say. This tribute was at a distinct advantage however: law protected her life at least as long as she was pregnant.

"It's good you don't speak," Santana said to the tribute. "I don't believe your voice would do anything to improve on the silence, in any regards. You might not be able to understand me right now, but I'll be sure to see to it that you learn to understand me very clearly."

Those sometimes brown, sometimes green eyes stared at her. Santana had the very distinct opinion that this girl would prove to be far less subservient than the Brittany was, (maybe that's why their eyes were different colors) and she thought of the doctor's advice concerning the Brittany. The woman looked at her in open challenge, in unadulterated hatred. If anyone was in need of Hiram's lash it was she. She could tell that this tribute was going to be trouble.

Life behind palace walls could sometimes get boring, however; the princess felt up for the challenge.

 


	5. The Festival

                It started to rain sometime in the middle of the night, unbeknownst to most in the Palace. Tiny little rain drops fell down on the roof and against the walls of the Palace, causing little noise, but stirring up the smells of the flowers that permeated in the Palace’s many gardens. A young female servant was sent to the Princess’ room to make sure that the fire was lit, and the windows were pulled closed against the possible draft that could occur after the rains, before she retreated back to the servant’s hall in case she was further needed.

                30 minutes later, Santana woke up with a jolt at the knowledge that something was touching her. She stiffened when she realized that there was someone else in the bed with her. She was momentarily frightened, and about to call the guards, when she caught the slightest glimpse of short hair and pale skin, and she relaxed. It was just her pet. The Brittany had cuddled into her side, and was resting her head contently on Santana’s shoulder, an arm cupped around her bicep. What Santana should have done was to hit the Brittany sharply on the nose, tell her no, and coax her back into her bed on the floor, like she did with any other naughty pet. But the warmth felt kind of nice. Deciding that this arrangement was fine for one night, she adjusted her body, making sure not to disturb the sleeping pet too much. She still stirred in her sleep, though, adjusting her hold on Santana, cuddling further into her side. After just a second of hesitation, the Princess dropped an arm around her pet and fell back to sleep.

                Santana woke up to a bright and brilliant morning, the surrounding landscape giving no indication that it had rained the night before. Santana was up earlier than even the servants who came to draw the curtains, or her ave canora to sing her awake. She was surprised to see that the Brittany was up, and was silently watching her. “And what tickles your fancy this morning, my pet?” the Princess said, feeling silly for talking to a creature that couldn’t answer her. The Brittany said something undecipherable, and then giggled. Actually giggled. Santana wasn’t quite sure what to do with the sound. It didn’t sound any different from what an Arroyan child might utter, and that was striking; her kitten never giggled.

                “What’s got you giggling,” Santana said in a decidedly playful voice. Reacting to her tone, the Brittany smiled up at Santana brilliantly. The Princess moved to sit back down on her bed. “You are a little bit adorable, you know that?”

                Brittany bounced on the bed. She nudged Santana’s hand until the Princess petted her.

                “Is this what you want, pet?” The Brittany hummed. “Oh, I think it is!”

                The door opened without the Princess noticing. “Good Morning, Princess!” Rachel said brightly, coming into the room following behind the servants who came to draw the already drawn curtains. Santana pulled slightly away from her pet. The Brittany jumped up at the sight of the ave canora, rushing off the bed to say hi. Santana fought down a small dose of jealousy at the attention that Brittany was now giving to her song bird.

                “And good morning to you, beautiful,” Rachel cooed. She ran a finger beneath the Brittany’s chin until Brittany gave a giggle. The Princess’ giggle. Santana, not liking the sudden show of affection, or the lack of attention she was getting, cleared her throat.

                Rachel smiled brightly at her. “And what should I sing for your Highness this morning? Though you’re already up so does that mean you do not desire a song to get you started on your day?”

                “ _The planting of the first flower_ ,” Santana said, indicating for Brittany to come back to her side. Rachel started to sing, and the Brittany obediently crossed the space, back to be near Santana. She faced Rachel though, an expectant smile on her face. “Are you hungry, my pet?” Santana questioned.

                The Brittany looked at the Princess. ‘Hungry’ and ‘food’ were two of the first words that she had learned to recognize. Her pet nodded rapidly. Santana pulled the cord alerting the kitchens. Almost immediately her door was opened, and a tray was brought in containing breakfast for the Princess and a dish for the Brittany. The Princess moved over to her breakfast table.

                Still singing (“the Planting of the First Flower”, or “Inception” was a rather long song), Rachel eyed the fruit that her pet got almost enviously. Santana noticed, and feeling  generous she told the kitchen maid to bring an additional bowl of fruit for the song bird, even though Santana knew Rachel had eaten prior to coming into her room.

                Santana sat her pet’s dish on the floor, gently nudging the Brittany to the floor. She watched Rachel until she finished singing, and then was hit with a sudden urge. “Come here, Berry,” the Princess commanded once the song was over. Rachel stood there for a moment longer, before she walked obediently over to the Princess. “Sit.”

                Rachel started to move to the other chair, but Santana stopped her. “No, here. On my lap.”

                A slight shiver ran through the smaller girl’s body at the lowness of the Princess’s tone. She tried to get a read on the woman. The Princess’s brown eyes sparkled in intensity and gave nothing away.  Rachel hesitantly sat, resting the littlest amount of one cheek on the Princess’s legs. Santana quickly corrected her, pulling her further into her lap so that they were both comfortable. Santana picked up a strawberry from the bowl, and held it an inch from Rachel’s mouth. The songbird gave a hesitant look to the Princess before she leaned forward and opened her mouth to receive the fruit. Santana delicately placed the strawberry in her mouth. Rachel’s eyes were on her, so she didn’t miss how Santana watched her teeth break into the skin of the fruit, drawing it in further into her mouth, and swallowing.

                “You like fruit as much as my pet, don’t you?”

                Rachel’s eyes fell to the Brittany who was eagerly eating out of her dish. “I do enjoy fruit, yes Princess,” she said agreeably.

                Santana picked up a grape, and there was less hesitation on Rachel’s part this time as she received the sweeter fruit.

                “Did you enjoy yourself last night?” Santana questioned, absently stroking her free hand on Rachel’s back.

                The songbird’s face light up. “Oh yes, I quite enjoyed myself tremendously. While I did notice that a bit of the choir was at times flat, and a little behind the music, I never could have imagined such an experience to be so…so exhilarating! It was better than my best dream!”

                Santana fed her another strawberry, but inwardly rolled her eyes. “So, yes, then?”

                Rachel swallowed the fruit, nodding her head up and down enthusiastically. “Funny,” the Princess said with careful deliberateness. “If you enjoyed the experience so much, I would have thought that you would have said ‘thank you’.”

                Rachel looked at the expression on Santana’s face, wondering if the Princess was angry at her. Santana was purposely trying to make the girl feel off kilter. She could almost feel the nerves rolling off of the smaller girl. “Oh, I do apologize, Princess, for my lack for manners! I just got so excited that I forgot. Thank you, thank you so very much for that opportunity! No one’s ever done anything that nice for me.”

                Santana fished out a piece of melon. From the corner of her eye she could see her pet watching her, so she gave the Brittany a pat on her head before returning her attention to the girl in her lap. “I’m not sure if you sound appropriately grateful,” Santana mused. She teased Rachel’s lips with the piece of fruit in her hands, tracing their outline before she allowed Rachel to eat it. She dragged her finger along Rachel’s bottom lip, to gather the juice that the melon left behind. She brought the finger to her own mouth and sucked.

                Rachel looked as if she stopped breathing for a moment. “H-how do you mean?”

                Santana could tell she was really about to enjoy herself. She leaned back on her elbows, and Rachel tilted down with her. “Feed me, Berry. I would like some fruit, too.”

                Rachel still had that clouded look to her. “Erm…yes, Princess.”

                She moved slowly, as if unsure of what she was supposed to do. There was no fork for her to use. Was she supposed to feed the Princess with her fingers the same way that she had fed her and the Brittany?

                “There’s no utensil, Princess.”

                Santana cocked her head to her side. “And you can’t think of any other way for you to otherwise get the fruit to my mouth?”

                Rachel blushed. She picked up the bowl, and after a slight hesitation she picked up the biggest piece of fruit, and fed it to the Princess.

                “Would you like to perform again?” Santana questioned after she had chewed and swallowed the melon.

                 “I would love that, very much!”

                “Do you know what I was thinking about when I watched you singing, in front of all of those people, Berry?”

                Another piece of melon went into the Princess’s mouth. “No, Princess.”

                Santana leaned forward, so that her face was closer to her songbird’s ear. “How you would look when I made _you_ sing.”

                Rachel dropped the piece of fruit she was holding.

                “Something the matter, Berry?” Santana teased.

                Rachel fished for another piece of fruit. Her hand came up with a grape. “No, Princess. I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

                Santana gently pulled at Rachel’s gown. “You know what I mean,” she said, her tone sultry. They both looked at the grape in her hand, Santana’s look expectant. Rachel quickly tried to place the grape in her mouth, but the fruit was too small. It wasn’t like the melon where she had room to hold it and to feed it to her without any part of them touching. She couldn’t place it in her mouth without touching some part of her. Santana’s lips and tongue touched both touched Rachel’s fingers. Santana moaned, loudly. “Oh, God, that’s so good.” Rachel’s cheeks now resembled the palace’s prized roses. “More.”

                Rachel whimpered. “Santana-,”

                Santana gave a wicked smirk. “No, it’s not time to moan my name just yet. I want another grape.”

                Hand trembling, the song bird reached for another grape, only this time when she went to place it in the Princess’ mouth, Santana held on to her cantorcita’s hand by the wrist so that she couldn’t pull it back. She licked and nibbled at the girl’s fingers, curling her tongue around each digit before she took them all the way into her mouth. She smiled in satisfaction when she heard Rachel whimpering. Keeping her eyes locked on Rachel’s, who seemed powerless to look away, she continued to suck on the fingers in her mouth. She turned Rachel’s palm over, her gaze not wavering as she licked a trail along the ridge, tracing her tongue along Rachel’s lifeline.

                Santana was amused by the look that it caused. Rachel squirmed in her lap, looking as if she had no idea what to do with herself. She frowned, her eyes growing dark. “Princess?” she whispered, questioningly.

                “Do you know what else I was thinking while I was watching you sing?” Santana husked, her eyes still glued on her songbird. She lightly trailed the tip of her thumb along the palm and ridges of Rachel’s hand. She stopped until Rachel realized that she actually expected an answer to her question.

                “What?” Rachel stammered.

                Santana’s voice dropped another decibel. “I was thinking about how your clothes would look on my bedroom floor.”

                Santana watched Rachel’s chest as it moved, quicker than it had been when she first sat in her lap. Santana placed a kiss on her open palm. Her finger moved from playing with her hand, to gently stroking up and down the length of Rachel’s arm. The Princess delighted in the feel of the girl’s shiver.

                “Do you know what the Thesmophoria is a celebration of?”

                “The last harvest of the year,” Rachel recited like an excited school girl.

                “And the preparing of the fields for the new season. It is a deflowering ceremony.”

                Santana brought her other hand to rest on top of Rachel’s thigh, and she left it there. The weight of it nearly sent Rachel into a panic. She began to trace slow circles.

                “I think that my generosity last night at the least deserves a kiss, don’t you? As a thank you?”

                Rachel helplessly gave a nod. She leaned up to do so, but Santana didn’t want her to have control even in that aspect, so she brought her face down. The kiss was sensual, passionate, and short. The Princess drew back completely, pulling away, but keeping her eyes locked on the song bird’s.

                “Did you like that?”

                Rachel nodded. Santana’s voice fell even lower. “When you were watching me fuck, Puck, when you saw me make him my bitch, did you wish that that was you?” She placed even, gentle strokes on her leg, dragging her hand higher, and higer. “Did you wish that was you beneath me?”

                The poor girl didn’t seem to know what to do with herself. Santana slid her hand beneath the folds of Rachel’s gown, not enough so that she was touching skin, but so that Rachel could feel her through the layers of fabric. Santana flipped the both of them so that they were lying down on the couch, Santana on top of her. “I can smell you, Berry.” Santana nuzzled her neck. “I can smell how much you want it.” She applied pressure over the girl’s core receiving a delicious little whimper as payment. “You did, didn’t you? You wished it was you? Do you want me to fuck you now?”A hand touched bare skin, slipping beneath the folds. Santana pulled her hand out, showing it to Rachel. “My, look at how wet you are.”

                Santana sucked the taste of Rachel off of her finger. “And you taste so fucking good.” Rachel was flat out trembling. Her hips jerked up the tiniest bit, and Santana smiled. She drew back so that she was hovering over the girl, but not touching her anymore.

                “Not yet, Berry.” She gave the girl a chaste kiss. “Soon,” she promised.

                The Princess righted herself. She forgot about the Brittany until she was back on her feet.  Her pet had moved from the foot of the bed, but still in plain view to see the little display that had just taken place. Her blue eyes were decidedly darker, and she looked up at Santana with a need that was so obvious she may as well have been spoken her language. It was a nice contrast between that look, and the confused and anxious look that the song bird was wearing. Santana remembered what Puck had said about the Brittany’s experience. She _knows_ things.

                “Did my little pet like that?” Santana questioned curiously, petting the girl. The Brittany’s head bobbed eagerly. Santana thought about maybe giving Rachel to her pet once she had her way with the girl. It was a thought. If nothing else, it would be fun to watch.

                “Sing me something, Berry,” Santana commanded in a firm voice. Rachel blustered over the first few notes before her voice came out steadier. Santana rang the servants. Teasing Rachel was fun, but it had worked her up to, and she needed a release. “Have Puck bathed quickly, and brought here,” she commanded her servant. “I wish to have him by the time I am done with my own bath.”

                “Yes, Princess.”

                “Come, Berry.” Santana started for the bathing room. The Brittany moved to come too, but Santana stopped her.  “No, my pet must stay here so she can be bathed.”

                The Brittany whimpered and looked up at her with pleading eyes. Santana placed a kiss on the top of her forehead. “I said ‘no’,” she said firmly. The pet whimpered again, but she obeyed.

                In the bathing room, Santana boldly slipped out of her robe, before she walked into the water. It was the perfect temperature, as usual. Santana looked from one of her bañistas to the other, finally settling on the dark haired one. After they were done bathing her, she decided to break in the chosen bañista. Before long she had the girl panting and writhing beneath her while the other bañista and Rachel watched. The Princess was so worked up from the scene with Rachel earlier that it wasn’t long before she was ready to climax. Before she could topple over, she pulled away, returning to her room naked and dripping wet. To her pleasure, Puck was already there, and not wearing any clothes.

                She jumped into his lap, wasting no time in getting to work. Puck was overly stimulated and had been prepped for the Princess, so their dance was very short to Santana’s delight, and Puck’s chagrin. She sent him away to be dressed immediately after, and Santana took a quick walk through the water again before she allowed for her dresser to dress her for the day.

                Isobel came striding purposely into the Princess’ bedchamber shortly after she had finished with Puck and was clothed.

                “Good Morning, Princess,” she said in a manner that wasn’t nearly as exuberant as Rachel’s greeting.

                “Isobel.”

                Usually the woman was in her chambers long before the curtains were drawn, but it was a festival week, so it was understandable that she was late.

                Festivals were not just a celebration for the royal and the wealthy, they had meaning to all of the members of Arroyo, so generally only the lowest (usually the youngest) members of the staff had to spend the whole day working. The Autumn Festival was the exception to that, as it was generally considered to be a young holiday. Beginning at 16, young men and women were presented to be planted for the first time, to begin to find their mates, and do their part to aid in the growth of the kingdom.

                At 18, Rachel should have participated in the festival two years ago, however the Princess was only 14 at the time, and as Rachel was not allowed out of Santana’s custody unless the Princess dismissed her, (and since Santana had not know that she should have dismissed her), Rachel had never been planted. It was an oversight, but when she thought about being her songbird’s first, she was glad for her ignorance. Now she couldn’t imagine anyone else being with Berry in that way. Perhaps it was unfair to her that the Princess chose such a role for her, but she was a servant and had no say in the matter.

                “I was under the impression that you would be off enjoying the festivities for the day,” Santana hinted. Isobel hovering was actually her fault, since she hadn’t dismissed her. Santana had to start learning to do that on her own.

                “I will leave as soon as my duties to you are served,” Isobel said. “The Queen has requested your company after she takes breakfast.”

                “Do you know as to what the nature is?”

                A resentful glare flashed briefly in the woman’s eyes, but it was gone just as quickly as it showed. “The Queen did not share with me her inner thoughts, however, if I could wager a guess I would say it has something to do with the proper handling of your Tribute.”

                Santana was suddenly reminded that she had one. “Yes, where was the Sylvan girl placed?”

                “She’s isolated in the servant quarters. Do you wish to be taken to her?”

                “Yes, after my rendezvous with the Queen.”

                “Very well,” Isobel said. “I had planned for you to have a tour of your apartments. You can see to her then.”

                Isobel’s statement reminded her that she had yet to see her new accommodations, but it also reminded her of something else. “The songbird? Where is her room?”

                “On the first floor, on the servant’s hall, behind the kitchen. I can show it to you while we are on our tour.”

                “I wish to see everything in _my_ wing,” Santana said, slightly crisply, as if there were a part of her world that she wasn’t allowed to see.

                “Very well,” Isobel said blandly.               

                A little later, she was escorted to the Queen’s private sitting room. The woman looked absolutely breath taking, as usual, and as if she were anxious to get to the garden’s for the day’s activities. The Queen never looked younger and more vivacious than she did during the Autumn Festival.

                “Good Morning, mother. What brings you calling so early this morning?”

                The Queen indicated her desire to sit down, and a servant readied a chair for her. “I wanted to talk to you about the Tribute delivered to you last night.”

                Santana grimaced. So Isobel was right. “Ah yes,” she responded. She didn’t know what else to say because she herself didn’t really know what to do with her. She didn’t even know where the girl, no woman, was right at this moment. “Why do I get the impression this is a lesson?”

                “Because you are a smart girl, and my daughter, so you know that that is precisely why you are here.”

                “Yes, and what is it you would like to instruct me in, mother?”

                “What do you intend to do with her?”

                Santana had absolutely no idea, but her mother didn’t necessarily need to know that. “Is she not mine to do with as I wish?” the Princess posed rhetorically. “Or is their protocol in place to dictate what I can or can’t do with her?”

                “No, she is,” the Queen assured her. “You can do with her what you would like, save for kill her or severely dismember her while she is with child. If she were from a greater kingdom, I would advise you to tread lightly as she was once a classed citizen, but Sylvan is of no concern to our kingdom.”

                “However…” Santana said, knowingly.

                “Pero…mija, I anticipate her being difficult, and I know that you are headstrong, so I will once again remind you that you cannot cause permanent harm to the girl while she is with child, so either you have nothing to do with her until the child is born, or you learn to temper that anger of yours, at least concerning her.”

                Santana smiled. “I will do my best, but it is not as if I will be punished for breaking our law over a servant.”

                “God will be disappointed, mija. Children are precious creatures, and they need our protection.”

                “Was that all, mother?”

                “No. Although she is beneath you, I think you should add her to your household staff, _at least_ until the baby is born. And then you can deal with her as you see fit.”

                “She can only be a member of the household if she can behave. I _will_ not have a disobedient servant.” Santana thought about Rachel as she spoke the words, but Rachel wasn’t _exactly_ disobedient. She just forgot herself at times. Santana wondered if she should discipline her more, just to remind her of her place. She knew that some insisted servants be whipped consistently, just to remind them of who they were. She thought about her pet, the Brittany, and fresh anger surged at the man she had taken her from.

                “Do your best, is all I ask of you.”

                With that she was dismissed. Isobel collected her at the door, and together they walked back to the Princess’ apartment. Isobel wanted to show her the main floor, the second level, before she showed her the ground floor, but Santana insisted on seeing the first floor, first. Because the first floor was dedicated to the servants, and servant work, it wasn’t as ornately decorated as Santana’s apartments were. It was outfitted for utility, but it still carried a sense of elegance, too, because it was the main palace, after all.

                Isobel had lined up Santana’s whole wait staff for her to inspect for the tour. Back in Terreno, the Princess hadn’t been introduced to the staff, but back there she was not considered to be a woman, and they had not been _her_ servants, they had been her mother’s. These were her servants. When she was Queen, they would move into the Palace proper with her. She needn’t know such much about them as to whether they were married, or had kids, but knowing their names, at least, was considered to be good form.

     The height of their eyes was an indicator of their position in the household. No one was to look in the eye of the Princess without proper permission, but those whose eyes didn’t leave the floor unless the Princess commanded it, were at the lowest on the order. This ranged from the runners (young boys no older than 12), to hand servants, to the laundresses. The intermediate staff eyes were midway between the floor, and her person. These were her dressers, her servers, the maids, and footmen. Then there were the high servants, the ones who looked out straight ahead, not without a sense of pride. These were: the chef, her chauffeur, the designer, the librarian, the head housekeeper, and the butler. And then, set aside, were the ‘special’ servants. Her bañistas, her songbird, her tutor, and Isobel was by her side. Missing were her pet, and the tribute, but they weren’t considered part of her staff. Her pet was just that, and the tribute wasn’t a servant, but a slave. Lastly, looking irritable that he was even in the procession at all as he wasn’t a servant, technically speaking, was Puck, who was already dressed for a day out.

                The Princess indicated that she wished for Puck and Rachel to join her on the tour. The rest of the staff was dismissed to go back to their chores, which, for most of the servants, meant that they were done for the day. They wouldn’t be allowed to leave the household until the Princess herself did, but they could relax in the servant’s hall for the time being. This was the first place that Isobel took them. There wasn’t much to see in the room. It had a fat table that took up most of the room, a large stone fireplace, several comfortable looking chairs to surround it, a desk, the wall of bells, and cabinets. The decorations were minimal: there were two tapestries on the wall, the Lopez Coat of Arms, and a embroidered rug that had several dozen of Santana’s flower, flowing down the very river that Santana had an amazing view of from her rounded bedroom window.

                From the servant’s hall, they went into the servant’s dining room where her songbird must have eaten this morning. Rachel must have eaten in a similar room in the past, back in Terreno, but Santana didn’t like that. Rachel didn’t know anyone here. She didn’t like the idea of her eating alone.

                They bypassed the servant’s bathing room, and moved on to the small servant’s library. The Princess was pleased with what she was seeing; her servants were well accommodated, even a bit spoiled, certainly well taken care of.

                They only briefly looked into the discipline room because Rachel gave a small whimper at the sight of the whips and the chains hanging from the ceiling. Santana gave her a one-armed hug behind Isobel’s back, a gesture she could tell her songbird was grateful for.

                Rachel’s room was, as promised, behind the kitchen but it was far too close to that stark room. The inside almost made up for its location. Although Santana had only peeked into one or two of the servant’s bedrooms, Rachel’s was a vast improvement on them. It seemed Isobel had taken her words to heart, because it was a bright, albeit small room decorated in pinks and yellows. The bird had a bed, with a heavy comforter, and two down pillows, one pink, one yellow. She had her own night table, with three books resting on it, and a candlestick, with a tall candle perched inside. There was no fireplace, of course, but there was a small coal vent that would provide a little extra warmth. It was a double room, and instead of a second bed, there was a small upright, with a full 88 key keyboard, though smaller and skinnier than a full-size keyboard. It was a fine little room for a servant, even if it didn’t have a window, (if Santana had ever visited Rachel back at Vista Terreno she would know that by comparison this room was a palace) but Santana still didn’t like her being so far away from her.

                “Is there a room of equal size on my floor?” The Princess inquired.

                Isobel had to do a quick mental rundown of the top floor. “There’s an empty utility room, but it’s bigger than this one.”

                “Have my songbird’s things moved into that room. I don’t wish her to be so far away from me.” Rachel was little, and excitable, and she certainly didn’t want the songbird this close to the punishment room.

                Isobel was slightly resentful of the idea of the little girl being in that room. It was bigger than hers. “Yes, Princess.”

                There was no mistaken the room that the Tribute was in. It was a cell. There was no carpet, no windows, no bed or really any furniture at all. All there was was a pallet on the floor, covered with a coverlet, and a pot in the far corner for the woman to do her business in. There were also screws in the wall, slightly overhead, and after Rachel’s whimper she had an idea what they were used for. The Tribute had been curled up on the pallet before the door opened, but when it did, she cowered back against the wall, though her eyes and set of her jaw were defiant. This made Santana smile, recognizing the woman’s spirit. She didn’t know why, but she was eager to try to break it. Not right now, though. It was the Thesmophoria. After the week was up, she would see to this woman, for now, let her have her fear.

                “Isobel?”

                “Yes, Princess?”

                “Until I command otherwise, I want a footman to deliver her food, twice a day. The same amount that a regular servant would take in, but no more. No extra water, food, or drink either.”

                “A footman?” Isobel questioned.

                Santana gave a firm nod. “The biggest on my staff.” It was perhaps cruel, but a calculated decision. Having a maid or handmaiden deliver her food would be a small comfort to the woman, but having a man to do so would keep her on edge. “The same footman will empty out her chamber pot as well. Other than that, no one is allowed to come into this room. Anyone that does so will be severely punished, is that understood?”

                “Yes, Princess.”

                “That includes Armand.” Armand was the household’s Hiram.

                “Yes, Princess.”

                “Lucy?”

                Almost on impulse, the girl’s head jerked up. There was that look. Defiance, fight, but with just the tiniest hint of fear. The Princess was beginning to wonder if she craved it.

                “A desire has been expressed for you to become a household servant. If you can learn obedience, you will join this household. If not, I’ll have to find other accommodations for you. I hope your current ones are to your liking.” The Tribute’s eyes narrowed, and Santana took it as a reaction to the tone in her voice. Earlier, she had it in her mind to ask for a Sylvan translator, but she decided against it. She was certain she liked the idea of the tribute being unable to understand what she was saying. Another calculated decision. “I don’t have time to properly install you in my home until after the festival, but you and I will have business soon.”

                The kitchen was the dividing line for the first floor. It was huge, and had two fires, one on each end. Santana, who had never been inside of a kitchen before, was instantly enamored by it. So far it, more so than any other room besides her own, felt like home. There were so many delicious smells for her nose to choose from, and she could see how lunch, dinner, and tapas, were already laid out, just waiting to be served.

                Down the hall from the kitchen was the remainder of Santana’s rooms that were on the first floor: the Princess’ Grand Hall, Dinning Room, Library, and Sitting Room. A wide and swooping set of stairs in the Grand Hall, led up to Santana’s floor. Her room was at the very end of the hall, its door facing the stairs. On either side of the hall, were various rooms. The lounge for the upper floor occupants, the atrium: a room with windows from wall to wall, and a glass ceiling overhead, the aviary.

                The entourage spent a good several minutes in this space. It, like the atrium, was so bright, and open that it didn’t seem as if it were even in the palace still, and the noise, surprisingly didn’t irritate her. It reminded her of when Rachel talked and she zoned out, actually. “Look, Berry,” she teased, “it’s your family! I think the Toucan there might be your aunt!”

                Rachel placed a worrying hand to her nose, and bowed her head. Neither Rachel, Hiram, nor Leroi were native to Arroyo. Rachel and Hiram were a part of a traveling clan of Jews that Arroyo was on friendly terms with, and Leroi was Logodo, like Prince Matthew. The Kingdom to the South of Arroyo, _Mexicatl,_ had a big trading port, so on occasion citizens from other countries came to live within Arroyo’s boundaries, though they were not considered to be its citizens. As someone whose looks set her aside, she was very sensitive about her looks, but her discomfort went unnoticed by the Princess.

                Santana stayed long enough to pick out two parrots, a cockatoo, and a bird of paradise, before they moved on.

                She was thoroughly satisfied with Puck’s apartment. It was decorated in the basin’s favorite colors, and delicately walked that line between manliness and gentility. “Is there anything that you desire with your accommodations?” The Princess questioned idly, after she had a good look around.

                “Canvasses of a naked woman or two?” he joked. Santana idly wondered if Puck would continue to stay at the palace once she became pregnant. Once she had that service from him, there was absolutely no other service needed from him, unless the Queen and King decided that he should replace Gabriella’s basin. She decided that if Puck wanted to stay, she would allow it. She liked his company.

                As if to serve as a reminder of her duties as a princess, a nursery was right beside Puck’s suite. The color for this room was mostly white and red. When Santana and Prince Matthew had children together, their children would sleep under their own flowers, the room decorated to match, and they would have their own staff of three before they were even old enough to crawl. For a very brief moment, she let her mind wander to her future husband. She spent so very little time thinking about him that he seemed inconsequential, most days.

                They bypassed Isobel’s room, because Santana had no interest in that. She’d actually lost interest in the tour, now that they were so close to being back to her room, so Santana decided to end it short of exploring everything.

                She turned to Isobel. “I have no other requirements for you for the day,” Santana said, firmly.

                Isobel, noticing the dismissal, nodded. “The carriage will be ready for you at two stones to noon. I will alert a footman to collect you then.”

                Santana gave indication that she understood, and Isobel left their party outside of Santana’s bedroom. Her wing wasn’t as large, or as grand as the Palace proper, but it would do. Santana was considering going back to her room to check on her pet, or going back to the aviary. She had just decided on the aviary when a sudden wave of nausea washed over her. It lasted only a few seconds, and then it was gone. She shook her head, and continued on towards the room.


End file.
